


The Hunter and the Thalmor

by elven_prophecy



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aldmeri Dominion, Attraction, Blood and Gore, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Dragonborn - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fear, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Freeform, Hunter - Freeform, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Magic-Users, POV Multiple, Rejection, Separations, Sex, Sex Magic, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Swearing, Thalmor, Thalmor - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Violence, non-dragonborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-10-28 06:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elven_prophecy/pseuds/elven_prophecy
Summary: Ancano survives a Stormcloak attack and dragon attack on his way to Winterhold.Enter Aya, a simple Nord hunter, and now Ancano's guide to Winterhold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I'd dip my toes in Thalmor smut just cause I love enemies to lover and always had a soft spot for Ancano.

###  1

   There comes a time in one’s life where reflection of one’s self is bound to happen.  Choices that had been thought good turn out not so good. For example, rescuing a Thalmor agent from certain death when one was a Talos worshipper and could be  _ considered _ a Stormcloak sympathiser (though she wasn't).  

   Aya rubbed a weary hand down her face and muttered under her breath.  They were but a couple miles from her rickety cabin in the woods. The Altmer that she was dragging with her may as well be  unconscious as she was practically carrying him so much he leaned on her. She’d bandaged most of his wounds though he was still bleeding heavily.

   She’d come across a bloody scene as she’d gone hunting.  A particularly large dragon had interrupted and attacked what looked to be a battle between Stormcloaks and the Aldmeri Dominion.  There had been no other survivors that she’d noticed. The Thalmor she was carrying had been flung from the fray by the dragon’s mouth and had practically landed at her feet.

    She'd had remained hidden while the drake had killed the others and then flown off.  Her heart had been in her throat the entire time. She'd been galvanized into action as soon as the area had been cleared.  The Thalmor had barely been alive when she’d gotten to him, blood was pouring quite generously from his wounds.

    Aya had quickly tossed a healing spell to staunch the bleeding (the very basics and it had just barely done the job cause, you know, she wasn't a mage).  She'd exhausted her mana reserves and her hands had shook as she'd patched as much of the injuries as she could. She knew she'd passed out with the big bastard (Altmers were unnaturally tall even next to Nords) and he hadn't stirred at all the entire time.

    Which bring us back to the situation at hand.  A Nord Hunter dragging a Thalmor agent across the skyrim wilderness in Falkreath Hold.  Her cabin was solitary and surrounded by dense forest and they would reach it soon. Hopefully before the sun set so that she wouldn't have to contend with the fauna wanting to eat the bleeding Thalmor.

   She grunted as she hefted the elf straighter (he was damn heavy for a mage) and trudged forward.  They were almost there… Fuck. This bastard better be appreciative of what she was doing. She grunted and almost fell to the side with the mer.  Thankfully she'd kept to her feet and by the time she reached her cabin, it was all she could do to drop the mer in her bed with her on top of him (her head on his stomach while her knees were on the floor).

    Talos would no doubt punish her this stupidity, she was sure of it, but she'd been raised to save lives, her grandmother had been a priestess of Kynareth after all.  She just needed to rest a little before she tackled the rest of his wounds. She had a couple of bone needles in a drawer beside the bed and a small pile of horse hairs.  She'd sew him up but nice once her body stopped shaking.

    Fuck she was burnt and sore.  Hungry too, but that could wait until she was able to move.  She closed her eyes, her head on his belly, and fell into a deep sleep.

***********

     She came too with a start.  Not understanding why her pillow had been warm (it had scared her) and she'd wakened startled, her head raising off the mer quickly.  Her blue eyes had focused on his gold and black robes and she'd been galvanized into action.

    The Thalmor agent she'd rescued!  He needed help!

    She'd jumped to her feet and had scrambled for her needle and thread.  Her hands had barely shaken as she fumbled with the fastening of his robes.  She'd grimaced as she uncovered his broken and bleeding body, pulling the robes open completely exposing bloodied golden skin and blood covered underclothes.  She grabbed an iron dagger and cut open the under clothes. There were big puncture wounds all across his torso going in a line (teeth marks). The skin was shredded and bone protruded in some areas.  Oh fuck…

   She didn't think, instead she used more of her crappy Restoration magic (she was improving it quite steadily with this big bastards wounds). She was trying to mend bones and started screaming in exhaustion as she was drained again.  

   Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. FUCK!

   She fought the sleep and took a deep, steadying breath (along with a couple magicka potions).  She had to relax and concentrate.

   A second attempt at healing broken bones was made and she pushed herself to very limits of her mana.  Sweat broke out across the whole of her body and she almost fainted when she heard the very distinct sound of bones snapping/breaking ( _ there it was _ !).

   A half-gasp, half-scream burst from her lips and she kneeled there beside the bed panting as though she'd run the whole of Whiterun Hold carrying an bull elk (antlers and all) on her shoulders.  Her body started shaking again and she reached for the last of her magical potions. One more good burst of Healing and he'd be good as new on the inside. She’d just have to worry about sewing him back together.  Piece of sweetroll, right?

   Right…

   She drank about half the potion before her patient sat up (oh this is going to suck), screaming (a battle cry at that… since when did Altmer war cry?)  and punched her in the face (oh that hurt…). She dropped to the ground like a sack of flour. Ironically, he fainted not long after knocking her out from the pain, his magicka completely drained from the battle.

   Aya awoke about five minutes later a nasty headache (and sporting a brand new broken nose to boot).  Her patient was still partially clothed, though not bleeding much any more. His black hood still covering most of his head while the whole front of his robes were wide open.

   She growled under her breath and reached for ropes.  She was quick to tie his arms up and to her headboard.  If he were to wake again, there wouldn’t be a repeat (she had to waste precious mana fixing her broken nose).  Satisfied, with his helplessness for now, she went for her needle and thread only to pause. Her magicka had fully replenished, if she were to pour the whole of it into his body again would she not mend the entirety of the wounds remaining?  

   She hesitated but a moment and proceeded to do just that.  It drained her completely but his golden skin practically glowed with health by the time she was done.  There was not a single cut on his gorgeous physique, and with his arms bound up, it put his muscles on display quite nicely.  She wasn’t embarrassed to grab an eye full before snuggling into his side out of sheer exhaustion and going to sleep. She felt no shame in wrapping her arms about his midriff to share body heat with him.  Her cabin was not windproof at all with its missing south wall (and the big bastard owed her after this. Big time).

***********

   The next time Aya opened her eyes, she knew immediately where she was and who she was snuggled into.  His breathing was steady and slow, and she noticed he tensed immediately as she stirred into wakefulness.  She didn't bat an eyelash as she peeled herself away from him.

   “I will tell you nothing,” he spoke before she even finished stretching, his voice was calm, cool and collected.  She arched an eyebrow and turned to glance down at him.

    His head was turned so that his shadowed amber eyes were looking directly at her from the darkness of his hood with an intensity that surprised Aya (oh boy...).  She smiled faintly down at him and patted his exposed, smooth and toned chest soothingly. He tensed in the bonds and stilled immediately.

     “It's a good thing I don't care what you know,” she smiled at the now confused look in his piercing yellow eyes.  

    “Why have you captured me?  What have you done to my men?” his line of questioning was controlled, despite the drawn lines across his angular face.  She reached down into his hood and gently placed her hand against his forehead. He tensed again and made to move away from her touch when he froze and cried out in pain.

   Aya was quick to turn on her magic, to heal the wounds in his head.  She'd concentrated so much on his body, she hadn't taken into consideration that his head could have been wounded in the fight as well.

   As wave after wave of soothing Restoration entered his body the Thalmor finally stopped struggling and relaxed.  She stopped casting just before she emptied herself and took a deep breath. “I didn't capture you,” she patted his bare chest again (she had to admit she liked touching him), “just keeping you still so you don't hurt me again.” 

    The amber eyes narrowed on her but he said nothing more on the subject.  She tried to stifle a yawn as exhaustion seeped into her body yet again. Gods be damned her weak mana reserves and her bloody bleeding heart.  It wasn't long before she snuggled back into his (tense,  _ very tense _ ) side and fell back into a deep sleep, her arms wrapping around him again, clutching him tightly.  She had to admit, she very much enjoyed his muscled frame in her bed even if he was an elf (and a Thalmor). 

    She slept another couple hours before her eyes snapped open and she sat up in bed.  Night had set long ago and her cabin was thrust into deep darkness (and cold). She felt his warm body freeze up beside her and was quick to notice gooseflesh exploding across his abdomen (her hand was touching him there).  

    “Oh fuck, I left you half-naked!” she gasped apologetically.  She moved quickly as she found flint and lit a small lantern she kept on the small night table beside the bed.

    The Thalmor said nothing as she immediately wrapped the robes around his body (just one side on top of the other) and reached for the ropes binding him.  She paused when she noticed his hands making tight fists. “You're not going to attack me if I set you free are you?” she peered down at him.

    “I will not.” she noticed his fingers going lax.  She swallowed and pulled on the rope fastening his arms to her headboard.

    As she loosened him, she avoided looking down at him.  She owed him an explanation in case he really didn't remember what had happened.

    “You were fighting with Stormcloaks I think,” she explained casually, pulling the rope through a loop, “Dragon made quick work of your friends and enemies alike, you just happen to land at my feet,” she grunted and dropped the rope to the ground once he was freed, “I am Aya Snowshoe, a Hunter.”

    He remained silent, his arms still above his head, he also made no attempt to introduce himself.  It was a moment more before he lowered them and very deliberately sat up. His studded gloved hands came up to his Thalmor robes and he fixed them deftly as he glanced about her one roomed shack.

    “Can you cast?” she questioned, wondering if he was still completely drained.

    “Yes,” he answered swiftly, his amber eyes narrowing suspiciously on her.

    She nodded and then waved towards a rack of meats hanging on the northwall. “Help yourself,” she smiled at him, ignoring the almost haughty look he cast her way.

    “Where exactly are we?” he asked after a minute of silence.

    “My home in Falkreath Hold,” she answered, “I can take you to Falkreath in the morning.”

    “Point me in the direction and I can find my way,” he spoke passively.  She shrugged and pointed in the general direction of the town. “That way,” she sighed heavily, “You don't have to leave, I will take you in the morning.”

    “I was on an important assignment when the Stormcloaks intercepted us,” his eyes narrowed at her as if mildly irritated he was explaining himself to her, and yet, he continued, “I'm afraid I can not dally any further.”

    “Where were you going?” she rubbed her eyes as he slowly got to her feet.  His head almost grazing the ceiling of her cabin (oh but he was tall…).

    “College of Winterhold,” he muttered, his gaze turning to the darkness outside.

    “Oh I know where that is,” she grinned and then arched an eyebrow as she eyed him up and down, “You're going to freeze up there if you go wearing just that.” She blushed suddenly as she realized she was the reason his robes were no longer as warm as they should be.

    His hawk-eyes narrowed on her and he in turn blushed slightly (he turned a gorgeous shade of orange) just below his eyes.  He cleared his throat and both of his hands went behind his back. “I think waiting until morning with the sun,” he nodded and came around to the side of the bed he had originally been sleeping on and sat down.

   “I've been snuggling you to keep warm,” she murmured, turning her head to look his way.  He avoided her look, laid down on his side, face towards her.

   “Have you no blankets?” he questioned, wrapping his arms about his core.

   “Not here,” she muttered grudgingly and slightly embarrassed, “I left my camp behind dragging you home, we can grab it in the morning on our way to Winterhold.”

    This time he did peer at her. “‘We’?” he repeated, his voice deliberate.

    “Yes, ‘we'.  You barely survived with a battalion of your men,” she pointed out the obvious, “Now let me show you what a hunter can do.  I will take you to Winterhold without incident,” she grinned at him, her overconfidence oozing from her too smug smile.

   The amber orbs narrowed from within the confines of his hood but he wisely kept his own counsel.  He shivered once when a cool wind made itself known. She (being a Nord, the cold barely bothered her) turned her head to just notice his repressed shiver.  She rolled her eyes and lowered herself to lay beside him.

   “Open your arms,” she nudged him, “I will keep you warm until we can grab my camp.”

   He snorted but obliged and parted his arms as though inviting her closer.  She was quick to snuggle into his chest and sighed contently as his arms wrapped about her smaller body.  She really enjoyed this. It had been so long since anyone had held her, she could almost forget he was a Thalmor.   _ Almost _ , but not  _ quite _ .

    She closed her eyes and was quick to fall asleep.  It was no so easily done for the Altmer. He found himself in a very awkward position for he too enjoyed the feel of the woman against his slender frame, and was glad for the cold that made it obligatory for them to snuggle less he freeze to death.  

    Ancano was loathe to admit, even to himself, that he’d much rather stay where they were (they couldn't though).  The Nord woman had saved his life (he'd used his own, much more powerful, Restoration magic and had revisited in his mind the scene of the battle).  They had barely done the dragon any damage despite the fact that both the Stormcloaks and the Aldmeri Dominion had temporarily joined forces.

    They had all died (he would have too had the woman not been  _ right _ there).  She'd used considerable mana on him to bring him back from the brink.  Could he actually go out on a limb and trust her? She made a mewling sound against his chest (Auriel have mercy) and her fingers clutched his robes but for a second (It was a second too long as he felt his shaft stir).  He was about to shift when her right leg hitched up his left leg and he felt the searing heat from her core as she settled her leg just over his hip.

    He closed his eyes and forced his hands to remain where they were (at her shoulders).  When was the last time he had been this close to someone else? Years? Decades? It couldn't be centuries, could it?  A deep, sleepy sigh escaped her lips and he tensed uncontrollably. This would most definitely rank high on his list of uncomfortable nights.  He'd be glad when they would locate her camping gear and he wouldn't have to sleep so close to her. She was burning him through his robes and there was nothing he could do about it, except sleep.

    The Thalmor were not permitted physical relations with other races (although other Altmers were allowed).  Mainly because the Aldmeri Dominion ensured that the best lineages, the strongest and most magically inclined remained untainted.  As a Thalmor agent, his choice of bed partners was not his own to make. He was still awaiting on news about whether he could make a proposal yet or not (he hadn't gone so far as to ask for whom he could propose to, merely permission to do so).  

   The Dominion would frown on his even  _ thinking _ lewd thoughts about a commoner, a Nord of all people, and they would  _ know… _ the Dominion always knew  _ everything _ about their agents.  

   He took a deep breath and relaxed his entire body.  It took awhile but he finally fell into a fretful sleep, haunted by both dragon fire and clear blue Nordic eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  2

   She woke before he did and for a long moment, luxuriated in the warmth of his arms.  It was a while before Aya finally cautiously slid out of bed as gently as she could. She needed to pack as much dried meat as they could carry just in case the pickings were slim along their route.  She also tossed her bone needles and horse hairs in one of her pouches. She’d fix his underclothes when they’d camp next.

    Her mouth watered as she bit off a mouthful of venison.  Nothing beat the wild flavour of deer. Natural spices in the meat allowed for very little seasonings needed (In Aya’s opinion none were needed).  She sat on the bed as she finished her meal and reached behind her to jostle the still-sleeping Altmer.

   “Breakfast,” she swivelled her torso towards him and wiggled a slice of jerky beneath his nose.

   The amber eyes slitted open slowly and glared (he seriously was!) at the food.  His eyes then focused on her for a heartbeat before he sat up very deliberately.  He didn’t stretch or yawn, rather he stood and adjusted his robes. She waited until he finished before handing him the meat.  She half-expected him to grimace rather than eating it, but he didn’t (she would have laughed at him).

   “We’ll leave when you’re ready,” she said, peering into the wilderness.

   He swallowed his mouthful before he answered her, “I’m ready now.”

   Aya nodded and walked outside not bothering to look back.  She knew he’d be behind her. In order to grab her camping gear, they needed to backtrack some before heading towards Winterhold.  They actually came close to where he’d been attacked. 

   “You can barely tell a battle took place here,” he mused from behind her, his voice soft.

   “Sabrecats and wolves,” she explained as she continued westwards. “I suggest we keep moving.”

   They reached her camp just as the sun was making its first appearance through the clouded sky.  She was quick to pack up her bedroll and supplies. He remained just on the edge of her camp and watched her toss everything into a backpack.

   “All right,” she grinned at him, shouldering her pack. “We’re going to stick to the forest as much as we can.”

   He said nothing, merely followed her in silence.  By the first night, they’d managed to walk around the southern side of the Throat of the World.  His brow had furrowed when she’d mentioned it.

   “Wouldn’t it have been faster to take the road?” he’d asked as she set up camp.  She paused in her work and grinned at him.

   “Of course it would have,” her grin widened when his eyes narrowed, “Do you really want to use the road in Stormcloak territory?” she explained arching an eyebrow at him.

   He was silent for moment before he clicked his tongue and made a sound of disgust in his throat.  He didn’t make any more comments on her directions after that.  

    She got a small fire going and had set up a small lean-to with sticks and branches.  She tossed her bedroll at him (he didn’t even say thank you) and pulled out her wolf pelts for herself.  Three pieces of rabbit jerky later, she glanced at the silent Altmer from the corner of her eye.  He was eating without so muh as making a sound.

   “You should hand me your underclothes that I know you are still wearing,” she pulled a needle from a pouch, “I’ll mend it so that you don't freeze once we reach Winterhold.”

   His eyes slitted and he glared at her in silence for a full minute before his studded gloves reached for the fastenings of his robes.  She watched as he pulled his arms from the top half and let it bunch up around his waist. He then slowly removed the undershirt that she’d cut open and handed it to her.  

   She smiled at him and grabbed the shirt.  It was bloodstained and she peered at him as she laid it out on her knees.

   “You know,” she began conversationally, “Wolves can smell blood from miles.”

    “Perhaps,” he answered, pulling his robes back over his naked torso and buttoning them up, “But from experience, Skyrim wolves don't require much to die.”

   She chuckled at his tone. “One on one,” she conceded, “but in a pack you wouldn’t think that about our beloved wild canines.”

   “And that is what Chain Lightning is for,” he answered cooly.

    She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from her throat.  She raised both hands, palms facing him (needle held in on hand) as though defending herself. “All right, all right, you win this round.”

   His amber eyes narrowed on her as though he didn’t quite understand the joke.  She returned her attention to her mending.

   “I’ll make you a new undershirt,” she said, “when we get to Winterhold, that won't be bloodstained.”

   “That won't be necessary,” he replied almost immediately.

   “I insist,” she grinned, rather enjoying his sullen company.  She’d been alone for such a long time she didn’t mind his caustic attitude one little bit.

   He remained silent and arranged the bed roll close to the fire.  She watched him slide his long body inside and snuggle within the comfort of her bed.  She wrapped the wolf pelts tighter around her body and resumed her mending.

   She almost screamed in surprise when a blueish magelight suddenly appeared in front of her and lit her up (and her work) nicely.

   “Talos!” she gasped putting a hand to her chest where her heart was pounding. “You scared me!”

   The Thalmor sat up then and his amber eyes focused on her with penetrating intensity. “Talos?”

   She blinked at him, her eyes squinting in the magelight.

   “What about Talos?” she asked deliberately being obtuse.  Aya knew full well exactly what he was going on about.

   “The worship of Talos has been banned by the Empire,” he spoke cooly, his voice matter-of-fact.

   She lowered her hands as she paused in her mending to look at him. “Has it now?” she spoke deliberately.

    His eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

    She nodded slowly. “Okay.” And she resumed her sewing while his eyes became slits of suspicion.  

   He didn’t say anything as he stared at her and she kept her own counsel.  Not knowing what to say to him exactly. She’d be in a whole pile of trouble probably if he started questioning her.  Curse her for being honest...

    “Have you renounced Talos?” he finally asked as his magelight went out.

    She sighed heavily ( _ giant _ pile of trouble…) and stopped what she was doing to look at him.  His eyes were reflecting the firelight and she was strangely mesmerized. “You have gorgeous eyes,” she found herself murmuring thoughtlessly (ugh… Really?  Face meet palm).

   He looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes widened before he caught himself and his eyes narrowed even further, “Don’t change the subject,” he snapped, obviously irritated.

    “I wasn’t!” she looked away, and closed her eyes as she blushed, “I just noticed!” she was making things worse for herself she knew it, “It caught me off guard is all!” She'd have a better time trying to put her foot in her mouth hand-less.

   Another ball of magelight appeared between them and she arched an eyebrow at him. “Have you renounced Talos?” he persisted.  

   Her shoulders slumped. “I’m suppose to say yes to that, aren’t I?” she mumbled.  

   “Yes,” he answered.

   “Then yes,” she beamed at him, her smile radiant.

   “You’re humouring me,” he was impassive, and utterly not amused.

   “I believe I am,” she answered avoiding to look at him.  She never said she was the sharpest knife on the belt.

   “So you haven’t renounced Talos.” It was a statement not a question.

    “Look…” she trailed off realizing that she still didn’t know his name, “You seen my house,” she peered at him, “I don’t exactly have neighbours, and the closest settlement is miles away.  So what, a hunter worships Talos, in the middle of buck fuck nowhere. Who am I hurting? The Thalmor?” she looked at him defiantly.

   “You believe because you live alone, in the backcountry, that you are above the law?” he countered, “Are we to turn a blind eye to everyone who lives alone then and breaks the law?  Be they murderers or thieves or Talos Worshippers?”

   “You can’t really compare worshipping Talos to murder,” Aya rolled her eyes at him, a smile tugging at her lips.

   “I do believe I just did,” he snorted.  She actually burst out in laughter.

   “It's not the same,” she chuckled, “That's like saying stealing an apple is equivalent to murder!” 

   He was glaring at her now. “Many are dying for said  _ apple _ ,” he hissed, and then continued mercilessly, “Refusing to relinquish the fruit at all cost, including a civil war that has cost and will cost hundreds of thousands of lives, both man and mer alike.”

  She'd stopped laughing as his words sunk into her brain. “There was no need to make the apple  _ illegal _ ,” she peered at him, “it is a gift from Nature.”

   “Talos is not,” he was calm as he spoke, “He was a mortal man made into Divine.  A preposterous notion if I've ever heard one.”

   “But why?” she asked, truly curious, “Is it because he's Nord?  Had he been Altmer then it would have been fine, I suppose?”

    “Are you listening to yourself?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, “He was  _ mortal _ , girl.  Altmers are not—”

   “Don't give me that horseshit,” she muttered, cutting him off, “Everyone knows mer are  _ practically _ immortals.  I am faintly surprised all your great heroes haven't ascended, considering,” she half said under her breath.

    “Most of our great heroes, as you call them, are still alive.” She was looking at him with a smirk on her face as though he'd somehow proven her point. “We are mortals too,” he grousled, “You wouldn't have  _ saved _ my life otherwise.  We age differently—”

    “How old are you?” Oh but she liked interrupting him.  It made his eyes flash amber fire for a split second. 

    He sat up straighter. “Five hundred and forty three years old.” (Internal wince)

    “And I'm pushing thirty,” she grinned, “You're going to live for how many more years?” she peered at him owlishly.  He swallowed but remained utterly silent. “I got a good sixty years left if Skyrim doesn't kill me before,” she answered casually and resumed her mending. “You're going to begrudge me my apple for what could be considered a phase in your long, long life?”

    “Enough with the apple analogy,” he glared at her.  She smiled at him.

    “You may ban the  _ physical _ worship of Talos,” she spoke softly, “But you can never stop us from mentally worshipping him.  You can take the Nord away from Talos, but you will never take Talos away from the Nord.”

   “Then you only hold onto to him because he was Nord?” he eventually asked after she finished fixing his undershirt.  He was quick to remove his Thalmor robes to pull the bloody undershirt on.

   “Partly,” Aya conceded, and then quickly added (cause he was starting to look condescendingly triumphant), “But that he was mortal and ascended mainly.  Helps that he was pretty impressive in his own right.”

   “Information on your Talos is convoluted,” he stifled a yawn and made himself comfortable in the bed roll, “You realize his race is not even certain.  He could be a Breton as well as an Imperial.”

   “Or even an Atmoran,” she added and then giggled when he turned his head to glare at her (he'd obviously not expected her to join in). 

   “We should turn in,” he changed the subject, turning his back to the fire.  She wrapped her wolf pelts about her body tighter, fully agreeing with him. They were going to have a long day on the morrow.  She wanted to cross both the Rift and Eastmarch, and jump directly into the Pale. They wouldn't be in as much danger once they reached the Pale, Winterhold was a hop, skip and jump away.

   She threw a couple of smaller logs on the fire and curled curled into a tight ball against the wall of the lean-to.  Her pelts didn't make for the best blankets but they sure were warm on the furry side. It wasn't long afterwards that she was completely asleep.

   Again it wasn't so for the Altmer.  Gorgeous eyes... she'd said he had gorgeous eyes...  Ancano was awake for a long while after the fire died, staring at the stars in the night sky.  His thoughts returning to their conversation on Talos, and  _ her _ in particular.  She hadn't denied it, though he was sure she had more than mocked him.  Her smile… he swallowed and then glowered at nothing in particular. It wasn't like him to be such a… he trailed off, not really understanding the emotions he was feeling and not really wanting to explore them either.  He was on a mission.

   He was going to have a hard time of it if he didn't get to sleep.  He doubted she would be accommodating if she realized he'd spent most of the night mooning over nothing.  He forced his eyes closed and willed himself to sleep. 

   This time, when his dreams came, there was no dragon fire, merely lush Nordic lips that tilted just so with her ready smile, and laughing blue eyes.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

### 3

    They kept a low profile crossing Eastmarch.  Aya made damn sure she kept her Thalmor off the road and open plains (easier said than done).  It wasn't until they crossed the White River (and tiptoed across Whiterun Hold) and entered the Pale that Aya was able to relax a little.  There had been a couple incidents that would have made her extremely nervous if her companion hadn't been magically inclined.

   They made a good team.  Her arrows (poison tipped keep in mind) and his magical bolts complimented each other nicely.  His earlier comment about Chain Lightning rang in her head (she actually cackle when he downed a pack of wolves with it) and quite impressed her frankly.

   “That was amazing!” she'd clapped him on the shoulder when he lowered his arms and closed his cackling hands (the spell gone).  He’d straightened and made a grunt-like noise but remained where he was. He'd put her in awe for a full minute and she'd gushed over him.  Complimenting him openly and sincerely.

   She'd jogged to all the wolf corpses and didn’t waste a thing or time.  Aya had skinned every one of them, cut off all the meat, collected as much as she could and then built a camp not far.  She didn't want to carry fresh and bloody meat across Skyrim, too many carnivores would come calling.

   A small fire was quickly built and she was swift to cook all the fresh meat.  He sat across from her and was staring into the flames, lost in his own thoughts.

   “So you have a name or am I calling you ‘Thalmor’ for the duration of our journey?” she grinned at him, “Unless you prefer Altmer or Elf.  Oh I got it,” her grin widened, “You!” she snickered as she slapped her knee in merriment.

   His eyes narrowed for a brief second as though debating if she was worthy of knowing his name (she was still giggling at her own joke).  He eventually took a deep breath and peered at her as he finally introduced himself. “Ancano.”

  That had her stop laughing.  “Ancano,” she repeated his name quietly and then winked at him as she flipped the meat on the fire. “It suits you,” she said with a smile, “Your parents must have known you'd have an affinity with magic.” One of his white eyebrows arched as he stared at her.  She blushed under his scrutiny and continued, “Sounds very similar to Arcane,” she was quick to inform.

    “You are correct,” he spoke slowly, but it was all he said on the matter.

    “My mother died giving me life,” she explained, figuring he’d open up to her better if she did as well, “My father died not long after, grief my grandma would tell me later,” she smiled sadly as she flipped the meat again, “She raised me, she was a Priestess of Kynareth.”

     He said nothing more and remained silent while she finished cooking.  It didn't take long for her to pack the meat except for two nice sized steaks that were still warm.  She handed one to him and was already chewing on hers while he merely held the food with the tips of his studded gloves.  There was a moue of distaste about his lips as he watched her eat without grace (honestly, they were in the wilds of Skyrim… like really).

    She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and arched an eyebrow at him. “Not hungry?” she asked.

    He narrowed his eyes but instead of handing her the meat he started to eat it by taking small bites.  He looked like he was trying really hard to not have steak juice leak all over himself. She watched him for a moment until she realized he started blushing beneath her gaze, and so she looked away and there was an awkward silence that surrounded them.

   “How much further until Winterhold?” he asked when he finished his food.

   “Not much further.  We're in the Pale now, Winterhold is north east, maybe a day, two at the most,” she said, kicking snow over the small fire. “You only have to suffer my company a couple more days at most,” she smiled at him and shouldered her pack.

   She had her back to him and missed the way he stared at her intently as she said those words.  He looked indecisive for a moment, but instead of speaking, he followed after her in silence.

************

   They reached the Weynon Stones a few hours later.  Ancano reached up and grabbed her arm to stop her. She'd blinked in surprise at the contact but hadn't shook him off as he slowly pulled her behind him.  He'd lowered his head and raised a finger to his lips as he glanced down at her.

   She frowned at him as he moved ahead and pointed toward the stones.  She raised a hand to shadow the glare of the snow and her eyes widened as she finally saw them.  Ice wraiths. She cursed beneath her breath and unsheathed her bow. She hated ice wraiths. They blended with their natural surroundings so well that she always missed them.  

   Ancano shook his head at her and put a hand to his chest.  She arched an eyebrow at him and grinned as she held her arm out invitingly towards the ice wraiths.  He wanted to kill them? He was more than welcome to it. Her arrows weren't very effective against their exoskeletons (they bounced or went right through them).

    And so she watched as he very slowly moved ahead.  He walked cautiously and both his arms came up. She saw him cast something (Muffle for those curious) and it wasn't until he was almost surrounded by the ice wraiths (they hadn't noticed him in time) that she realized what he was doing.  His hands were moving in circular motions and then his back arched. He was surrounded in fire for a full second before he moved again, it was as if he was throwing the flames at the ground at his feet (which he was).

    Aya's eyes widened and she squealed as _everything_ went up in flames and exploded from beneath his feet ( _Oh fuck yes_!).  The ice wraiths stood no chance and all three of them poofed into piles of ash.  The ground and very air around him smoldered for a few more moments before vanishing (snow melted!).  She was bolting towards him and practically jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

    “What was that?!” she shrieked (directly in his sensitive ears... _wince_ ), her excitement uncontrollable.  He grunted and managed to keep his balance, despite her hanging off him.  She eventually dropped, and moved away from him to stand in front. “You have got to tell me what that was!  I have never seen that before!”

    He straightened. “A fire spell,” he answered as though it were nothing, and then proceeded to dust his hands off.  

    In fact what he'd actually cast was a Master Destruction spell (Fire Storm).  A part of him had done it on purpose (he hadn't needed to use such a strong spell for three measly ice wraiths) , curious to know her reaction, and he'd been secretly pleased by it.  He'd wanted to impress her… Ancano turned his face away from hers as he felt himself blush. He'd showed off for her and now he was embarrassed by it. He was no youth to act this way.

    “A big Thalmor secret then, is it?” she snickered, teasing him.

    “Nothing of the sort,” he glared at her and then glanced about the area.  He froze in place as his eyes alighted on a huge statue of Talos, his sword pointed downward and his foot on a giant snake that had its mouth open to strike at him.

    Her eyes followed his and she blinked in surprise.  There was even a shrine of Talos. She Didn't hesitate as she ran forward and placed herself between the shrine and the Thalmor, her arms opened to stop him from doing anything (as if she had that power).

   “Wait!” she screamed (he hadn't made a move to destroy anything or even cast anything).

   He arched an eyebrow in her direction and remained unmoving and silent.  It took a moment or two before she eventually lowered her arms and blushed a deep red.  She ran a hand awkwardly through her short dark hair and eventually stepped away from the shrine.  Aya cautiously approached Ancano warily as though he was going to do something terrible to her Divine if she moved too far away.

   He took a deep breath and rubbed at the bridge of his nose at the same time that she rubbed the back of her neck. “I thought you…” she trailed off and avoided looking at him.

   “It is not my duty to remove the Shrines from across Skyrim,” he answered her unvoiced question.  

   She took a deep breath and turned her back to him to glance back at the statue.  He moved to stand beside her, his yellow eyes focused on the statue for a brief moment before he turned his head to watch her.

   “Do you know what it depicts?” she waved a hand at the monument.  He arched an eyebrow.

   “His killing a dragon, I assumed,” was his lame answer.  

   Aya smiled at him and shook her head. “That is no dragon,” she approached the statue, “Come,” she motioned for him to come closer, which he did, “That's a snake,” she pointed to the length of the serpent, “My grandma use to tell me that this is the representation of Talos ascending.  He is stepping on the snake called Lorkhan,” she cast him a knowing look, “Which, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't he an enemy of the mer?”

    “The Trickster.” He looked unimpressed by her story and actually folded his arms across his chest.  

    She, in turn, placed a hand on the shrine of Talos.  She could feel the warmth of Talos flowing through her body. “Ever received the blessing of Talos before?”

   “No,” his reply was quick.

   “Well that explains a lot,” she grinned at him and then held her hand out to him, “Gimme your hand.” He stared unmoving at her hand.  Even after she wiggled her fingers at him, he still refrained from doing as she bid. “Don't tell me you're scared…?”

    He looked at her from the darkness of his hood and rolled his eyes at her. “You're being ridiculous.”

    “There's no other reasons for you to hesitate,” she countered, looking at him pointedly and wiggling her fingers invitingly again, “Come on, Thalmor,” she grinned at him, “You're going to let a weak Nord Hunter show you up?”

    His eyes became mere slits, but still he didn't move. “Your pathetic attempts at baiting me are not going to work.”

   “You're no fun,” she pouted at him and finally moved away from the shrine, but not before kissing the tips of her fingers and touching the monument.  His eyes followed the action with an intensity that she would have blushed at if she'd had noticed it (which she hadn't). “We're going to camp here tonight,” she dropped her pack not far from the statue, “Think you can handle sleeping at the feet of Talos?” she asked, a gleam of mischief sparkling in her eyes.

   “I've slept in worst places,” he muttered, moving to examine the three piles of ashes that had been the wraiths.  He was curious to know if the essences had survived the incineration.

   “My cabin one of those, I'm assuming,” she had her back to him as she pulled the bed roll and old wolf pelts from her pack.

   “It's up there,” he answered grimly, staring at her back.  He saw her tense, and his eyes narrowed.

   “I'm not going to apologize for it,” he could hear the smile in her voice, “I rather enjoyed the company.”

   “Then stop living alone and get married,” he muttered.

   She straightened and turn to glance at him. “And give up all this freedom?” she spread her arms wide, “I think not.”

   “There will come a time when the freedom won't be worth it,” he murmured quietly, thinking about his own push for companionship.  He wanted someone with him, to share with and just be himself with (It had gotten to the point that he didn't even care who it was).  Nights were slowly becoming intolerable, he wanted a partner, to banish the loneliness that being a Thalmor agent brought.

   She was silent as her bright blue eyes stared at him intently.  He blushed beneath her scrutiny and left the Stones to go and gather firewood.  He could feel her eyes on his back until he moved out of sight.  He was quick to return and found that she'd already built her lean-to and had a small fire built.

   He dropped the wood beside her small pile and sat himself down on the bed roll she'd laid out for him.  Ancano didn't see where she was, and almost jumped out of his robes when she appeared close to him.

   “Before you, I hadn't really talked to anyone since my grandma died, almost ten years ago,” she murmured as she suddenly sat down beside him, their shoulders almost touching.

   “That's not the loneliness I spoke of,” he returned, not looking at her.  He accepted the cold wolf meat she handed him silently.

   “Oh!” she gasped suddenly and then turned scarlet but she did not move away from him. “I see.  So you're wanting _that_ kind of companionship.”

   “You're being crude,” he murmured, taking a bite from his steak, he barely tasted it as he swallowed it.

   “Actually I thought I was flirting,” she giggled nervously, “but I'm not exactly worldly…” she licked her lips, “but seeing as you're not reacting, maybe my methods aren't…” she trailed off (good thing too cause she was rambling now) as his amber eyes practically glowed as he stared at her intently.

   Her eyes widened with awareness and dropped to his mouth involuntarily.  He didn't hesitate and like a hawk, swooped down on her. Their mouths connected, and bolts of lightning danced across her skin.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  4

   His tongue pushed past her lips to tangle with hers while both her arms wrapped around his neck ( _ oh but he was a good kisser _ … Not that she had  _ anything _ to compare him with).  Aya groaned against his mouth and would have probably made a fool of herself had he not suddenly pulled away from her.  His hands had gone to hers to disentangle them from around his neck before he got to his feet (his food left forgotten on the bed roll) and moved away from her.  His back was turned to her.

   “That was uncalled for.  I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly, not daring to look at her.  He stood a few feet away from her.

   The fires of rejection flared brightly for her but she licked her lips and smiled at his back as though she wasn’t hurt (which she very much was). “It’s okay,” she spoke clearly and immediately moved to her wolf pelts.  

   She wasn’t as surprised as she should have been (not really…) by his spurning.  That he  _ had _ kissed her had shocked her to the core though, and she had loved every second of it.  She could still feel his lips on hers and raised her hand to her mouth gently as though she could still feel them against hers.  

   “It’s not okay,” he murmured, “I…” he trailed off and she saw his shoulders sag, as though defeated, she barely heard his soft words, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” He put his hands to his hips and she noticed his head lowering, as he continued, “But I’m a Thalmor agent, and you're a Nord,” he said as though that explained everything.

   “So?” her eyes peered at his back, and then she gasped as his words dawned on her like the Throat of the World falling on her head.   _Of course_ that _was_ the problem.  She _wasn’t_ an Altmer (a _barbaric_ _Nord_ , can we say furthest thing from?)… _or_ a Thalmor _and_ she worshipped Talos (could she have any more strikes against her?). 

    He sighed heavily, but remained silent. 

   “Why does you being a Thalmor and me being a Nord matter to anyone else but  _ us _ ?” she asked his back and then felt a stab of pain as she continued despite her common sense screaming at her to shut up, “And really who has to know that you sullied yourself with a savage Nord in the wilds of Skyrim except for  _ us _ .”

   “I didn’t say that,” he finally turned to glare at her.  His yellow eyes narrowing to mere slits.

   “No, but you implied it,” she couldn’t stop the words and to her horror, tears filled her eyes (fuck).  She was quick to look away and didn’t notice as he approached; she didn’t want him to see her crying. It wasn’t until he crouched in front of her and grabbed her chin with a studded glove to turn her head towards him, that she did.

   Her lashes fluttered as she blinked back the tears but she met his unblinking amber stare dead on.  She wasn’t a coward to back down, not now.

   “You are not a savage,” he spoke slowly (his thumb caressed her chin), and he meant it.  She was knowledgeable in ways that had surprised him and had embarrassed him. 

    “We should turn in.” She pulled her face from his grip and threw a log on their fire before wrapping herself in the pelts and laying down, her back to him.

    There was a heavy silence that permeated the air between them.  The wood popping and crackling the only thing disrupting the stillness that surrounded them.  Ancano stared at the back of her head for a long while before he mentally squared his shoulders.  He owed her this.

    “The Aldmeri Dominion control everything about my life,” he eventually spoke, moving to sit beside her.  She didn’t say a word as he continued, “I’m not free to choose anything, not my friends, not my lovers. Not even my wife,” he swallowed, and looked down at the ground, “Before coming to Skyrim I had just requested to be allowed to seek a partner,” he blew out a breath as he stared into the fire, his voice was stable but she could hear the underlying bitterness (or maybe she was thinking she heard it cause she sure as Oblivion felt it) “She would, of course, be one of those selected few the Dominion would have singled out for a mage of my caliber; to produce the next generation.” 

   “Why do you choose to live like that?” she whispered after a moment of quiet.  She did turn to look at him with confused, glittering blue eyes.

    “I didn’t,” he spoke softly, his words barely a whisper. “My parents are both Thalmor agents,” he smiled sadly, “Mages without equal.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I was bred for this.  My duty.” Another deep breath, “Except that I find myself wanting a Talos worshiping Nord over an Altmer.”

   There was a heavy silence between them and she finally got up and knelt behind him.  She dropped her pelts and wrapped her arms about his back (her hands coming around to his front), pushing herself against him as she hugged him tightly.  

   His right hand came up and he gently placed it against her fur clad one and pressed down, essentially hugging her back.

    “Tell you what, Elf,” she teased, snuggling him, “Let’s forget who we are for a few hours,” she murmured seriously, “I’ll drop you off in Winterhold on the morrow and you never have to clap eyes on me again.” Her words echoed with finality, but she continued, “No Thalmor, no Talos.  Let’s just be Aya and Ancano tonight.”

   The pressure he was applying to her arm became almost painful, and he turned his head to look back at her with that same piercing intensity she’d come to associate with him. 

   “Aya,” he said her name on an intake of breath.  Her smile was utterly brilliant and it blinded him.

   “Ancano,” she said, her voice taking on a breathy quality.

  He fully turned then and before she could react, he’d brought her forward so that she was no longer at his back but now sitting on his lap, her legs on either side on him (she linked her ankles behind him).

   She gasped but it was swallowed by his lips.  She closed her eyes and both her hands came up to cup his face.  She could just feel his silky hair as her fingers buried into his hood.

   Their mouths did not part as she pushed the hood from his head, exposing shoulder length, pale white hair and the long pointed ears associated with the mer.  His golden skin took on a darker tinge in the fire light that gave him an exotic look (as if he wasn’t already being an Altmer and all). Their tongues danced and touched, swirling together, and both were panting.

    One of his hands was pressed against her lower back, while the other was just touching her chin.  It wasn’t long before his right hand came down from her face and was touching at her fur armour. Aya didn’t need to be told twice (or at all apparently since all he did was  _ touch _ her armour) and released his head (they were still fully engrossed in a Dibellan kiss that had robbed her completely of all lower body strength) so that her shaking fingers could undo the clasps of her armour.

    “You’re going to freeze,” he whispered against her mouth, and then nipped at her lower lip gently.

     “You’ll keep me warm,” she answered, proud of the fact that her voice was steady when nothing else was.

    “The bedroll…” he trailed off as she finally pulled her armour off, exposing her breasts to both his heated gaze and the cold chill of the night.  Her nipples tightened uncontrollably and she gasped again as his now  _ bare _ (she hadn’t even noticed him removing the gloves) hand touched her breast.

   Gooseflesh exploded across her body while he rolled the nub of flesh between his thumb and forefinger.  She squeaked beautifully and he pressed her more tightly against himself. It wasn’t long before she felt him flex his hand and her bedroll came floating towards them (his partially-eaten steak had rolled off).  Had she not been fully engaged with him, she would have probably been impressed. He pulled away just long enough to place it next to them, close to the fire.

    “Get in,” he murmured, nuzzling her kiss-swollen lips.  

    She swallowed and rolled (there really was no grace involved here…) off him to enter the bedroll.  She was quick to remove the rest of her gear until she was completely nude beneath the covers. Aya watched as he very deliberately reached for the fastenings of his robes and shed them slowly (included the mended bloodied undershirt), revealing his golden and toned body to her eyes.  

    She was quick to part the bed to give him room to enter (which he did with alacrity… _it was_ _cold_ ).  Aya moaned as he turned towards her and hefted her closer to himself, raising her leg over his naked hip.  His heat mixing with hers to banish the frigid air. She shivered as his hands trailed down her spine as though memorizing her shape.

   There were no words spoken as he rolled himself atop her, his forearms supporting most of his weight.  She spread her legs wide to accommodate him and almost screamed (she’d blushed scarlet instead and mewled) when she felt his cock against her lower belly (It surprised her).  She tensed as he reached down and rubbed himself against her lower lips, teasing her entrance and making her leak everywhere, sending more bolts jumping across her nerves. He must have felt it for he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers gently, almost reassuringly.  It worked for she relaxed beneath him until she felt that first push into her body.

   She gasped again and it turned into a pained little shriek as he suddenly surged forward and planted himself deep within her warmth (both of his arms supporting him again).  He’d grunted then froze and raised his head (he’d buried his face in the crook where her neck met shoulder) to look her in the eyes (she was crying again).

    “You should have told me,” his voice was guttural, and shook with suppressed lust.

    “I'm a virgin,” she hissed through clenched teeth.  

     His face softened, there was a genuine smile on his face as he stared down at her, “A little late, Nord.”

    She gave him a pained grunt. “No one told me it was going to hurt, Elf!”

     He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers. “Let me take the pain away then.”

     Aya’s hands came around to grab his head ( _by his ears_!  He may have whimpered) to hold him.  He groaned when her small sounds of pleasure were breathed into his mouth.  Her legs lifted warily (as though fearing more pain) and very slowly wrapped around his waist.

   He groaned again and she felt him shudder as he slowly almost pulled out only to press into her again.  His movements were deliberate and with each push she felt herself flush with warmth (Not to mention she was moaning/panting with every surge).  A tension of the likes she’d never felt before started coiling in her womb, and her muscles tensed and twitched around him.

    “Please,” she whispered against his sensitive ear (he’d whimpered.), “don’t stop!” Her hands had moved to his back and she was scratching and grabbing at his skin in a way that burned his blood.  Her nails weren't sharp, but Ancano was gritting his teeth as though he was being drawn and quartered (He was close…  _ he wasn't going to last _ ...).  

    He felt his body shudder (gods...please no...) so he pressed in deep and held himself there.  He dropped his body onto hers and held on to her tightly without moving. He needed to calm down.  He was going to make himself look like an untried youth if he didn't.

    “Let me hold you,” he rubbed his face against throat, dropping kisses along the column.  

    She groaned and shifted restlessly beneath him.  The walls of her pussy clenching around his shaft.  He grunted and his arms tightened about her smaller frame; his testicles clenched and suddenly he wanted her to come over the precipice with him (He was falling over the edge already).

   His hips started moving into her at a more rapid pace, increasing the strength of the thrust.  Her vocals changed pitch and he felt his cock begin pulsating just as she exploded (Blessed Divines...thank you…).  His cry of victory echoed into the night, long after he'd practically collapsed on her. 

   It took him more than a moment to roll off her, and when he finally did, he was swift to rearrange their sleeping arrangement (and fix the bed roll and collect the wolf pelts to use as extra bedding and tossed another log on the fire).  

    She'd merely turned to goo.  He turned her so that her back was to his front.  He had one arm over her waist and the other beneath her head and across her front as though securing her to him.  Not that he needed to worry, one of her legs had hooked around his leg and she'd linked her hand to his.

    She was asleep almost instantly, and for he Altmer holding her, it was ever elusive.  She clung to him, in sleep; he rather enjoyed it. And as he stared at her dark hair, his eyes moved beyond her to look at the statue of Talos.  More specifically, the shrine of Talos.

    What had started out as a terrible place to sleep (for a Thalmor anyways this was borderline blasphemous), now ranked fairly high.  And Ancano found himself realizing he was going to do something utterly against Thalmor rule. 

    He was going to forget this shrine even existed.  

    She could keep her Talos, and he would keep this memory. 

    And when sleep finally did claim the Altmer.  There were no dreams to be had. Instead he slept as though he'd never slept before, his entire body fully refreshing, his mind re-energizing.  And he understood now, what the Lover's Comfort was all about. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  5

   Aya awoke first, still wrapped in his arms, the sun was barely poking through the thick clouds that always dotted Skyrim's sky.  She dared not move either for she knew, once she did, they would have to part ways soon. It was inevitable though, they weren't just Aya and Ancano any more. 

   And so Aya very gently turned so that she was facing him from within the cocoon of their bed, she was going to steal moments.  She was at eye level with his lips, just a small amount of thievery. One of her hands slowly moved up his body to rest against his chest, running her fingers along the golden skin (No one needed to know...).  His pectorals tightened and tensed beneath her palm and she realized he was awake when he pulled her closer to his body (He was stealing too).  She smiled.

    She gasped as his cool lips found hers.  She breathed into his mouth and began kneading at his skin with both hands.  His yellow eyes slitted open just as he deepened the kiss. Aya moaned against him and groaned when he rolled over her and pressed his erection against her mons.  She was already wet for him, and it wouldn't take him long to notice it.

   Their tongues tangled almost urgently and she mewled to feel his hand slide up the side of her leg to her ass.  He dug his fingers in the muscle before trailing his fingers against her belly. Her swallowed the sounds of pleasure she made when his index gently pushed into her soaked folds (he growled; he’d noticed.) and rubbed circles around her clit.

    Ancano’s head was swimming with lust.  He needed to rid his blood of the madness; this want he had for her.  He feared he would never have enough (not of her anyways). His breath hissed between his teeth as she spread her legs around his waist again and he found himself buried to the hilt in her wet warmth.

   The was no gentleness about it this time.  The explicit sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the frosty air as did their moans and noises.

   “Ancano!” she screamed his name, her arms wrapped about his neck.  He was beyond words. Lost was the ability to formulate even the simplest of sentences.  He’d been reduced to grunts and unintelligible gibberish, and it got worse as she tightened about him ( _ gods… _ ).

    He felt the air rush out of his lungs as his ejaculation sprung deep inside her womb.  He went as deep as he could go, and growled as her legs tightened almost painfully about him.  He latched his mouth onto hers just as her own orgasm ripped through her body (oh but he  _ loved _ feeling her release).  She was moaning his name as though in prayer and Ancano knew then he would  _ never _ forget her.

    There was no riding his blood of her.    

    Long after she’d be dead and gone (her life but a phase in his as she’d had once said) he would remember the colour of her eyes.  The feel of her skin, there was nothing as soft anywhere on Alinor, the touch of her hands, warmth of her body... He would remember the way she snaked herself around him, breathed his name… 

    He was sealing it away.  

    It was over too soon.  An eternity would have been too soon...

    They were both breathing heavily (she was panting) and he was hugging her to his body, as close as he could to his pounding heart.

   “I wish we could stay here forever,” she whispered against his shoulder, her arm folded behind him so that her hand was at the back of his shoulder, wrapped around him.  She kissed him there when she finished speaking.

   He didn’t say anything for a long while, he just tightened his arms about her.  Mildly surprised by how closely she echoed his earlier thoughts.

   “We can not,” he eventually murmured, turning his head to press his lips to the side of her head.

   “I know,” she breathed and he felt moisture against his skin as she pressed her face against him.  She was crying again.

   “Come now,” he reached for her chin, “Tears for a Thalmor?” His thumb brushed a tear away.

  She gave him a watery smile and took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she chuckled, and blinked them away, “No tears for a Thalmor.”

   “Good, Nord.” He smiled down at her and he, in turn, sighed deeply. 

    They parted silently and he felt the cold instantly as they both sat up.  The cold of death, if he was being dramatic.  It was fitting. 

   “Where’s…” she trailed off when he reached into the bottom of the bedroll and pulled out their gear. “Ah!” she grinned at him, “That was smart!  Clever, Elf.” 

   He nodded, and started pulling his robes on (including the underclothes).  He was dressed first, he was just fixing the hood on his head, and pulling his gloves on when he heard her curse.  He arched an eyebrow as he glanced down at her. She was struggling with the leather pants.

    “What is it?” he asked, his eyes narrowing (she didn’t catch him casting Detect Life).

    “Storm is going to be riding up our asses,” she muttered, fastening her fur armour as she peered at the overcast sky. “We can stay ahead of it if we hurry.”

   He didn’t need to be told twice.  He helped her throw everything in her pack and gladly accepted a couple slices of jerky with a handful of snowberries.  He ignored that she kissed her fingertips to the shrine again and was glad to be leaving the Stones.

    She had them practically running eastward (A brisk walk really).  He frowned as he felt the smooth cobblestone of a road beneath his boots. “Road, Nord?” he couldn't resist, “In Stormcloak territory?”

   “Shut it, Elf!” she snapped at him irritated (she didn't miss his smirk), “it's only until we reach Wayward Pass.”

   He took no notice of the ancient tomb they passed, one tomb in Skyrim was barely differentiated from another.  They were all filled with Draugr (long dead Ancient Nords not that different from modern Nords with their love of battle), with very little to no reward (the odd trinket not worth the Draugr), and no point to them.  

    Aya had them turn northward not far from the Nightgate Inn.  She could hear the storm coming (living outside made one more attuned to it), and she wanted to have some form of protection, if it were to catch up to them.  Wayward Pass was shelter from the wind enough. They’d better take advantage of it, once passed the Dwemer ruins not far from here, it was open bitter plains almost to Winterhold.  

    She had them stop at the shrine of Arkay.  Ancano arched a white eyebrow as she dropped her pack and pulled out the two wolf pelts.  He couldn't help his mouth dropping open in surprise as she just removed her fur chest piece, exposing her pale skin and round breasts to the elements.  

    He shifted.

    “You should do the same,” she said as she wrapped the pelt about her core and secured it to her body.  She then pulled her fur armour back over top and was deftly fastening it closed as though nothing had happened. “We are going to lose the shelter of the mountain and trees,” she explained, “Bitter cold like this you will never feel anywhere else.” She grinned at him.

    He didn't say anything as he did exactly as she had with the second pelt.  He was just fixing his robes when he caught her heated stare and felt himself harden even more beneath her gaze.  Suddenly he was too hot, and he just stopped himself from pulling on his collar. She must have realized she was staring for her eyes widened suddenly and she visibly gave her head a shake.  She cleared her throat awkwardly and he missed her blush.

    “We have Dwemer ruins just beyond here, we're going to avoid fighting anything there  _ if _ anything  _ is _ there,” she licked her lips, “Be ready to fight though cause trolls and wraiths.”

    He nodded at her and flexed his fingers, a precaution really.  She unsheathed her bow and knocked an arrow. “Ready?”

    He nodded again and followed after her as they began descending the Pass.  He spotted the Flame Atronach before she did, but her attack was faster. The Atronach was charging up a spell when he launched his own ice at the creature.  They tag teamed it until it dropped and exploded into a burst of flames that was extremely painful if one stood too close.

   Ancano was a little surprised when she pulled a small dagger from a pouch and harvested the fire salts from the cadaver.  He hadn't expected her to know about that, and he felt ashamed of himself for thinking like that. 

    True to plan, they ran through the Dwemer ruins, not stopping for anything or anyone (he thought he saw a hag out the corner of his eye, but they practically flew by).  It wasn't until they were a good distance that she let out a whoop of delight.

   “That thing stood no chance!” she smiled, raising both arms to the sky, in an exaggerated display of victory.

   “It was alone, of course it didn’t,” he spoke calmly, tightening his gloves.

   “And we destroyed it!” she reiterated with exuberance.

    He remained silent and stoic as she took them northeast past  _ another _ (They really were  _ everywhere _ ) Nordic tomb.  This time when he chanced to glance down at it, he felt a shudder run up his spine as though someone had walked across his grave.  

    “What is this place?” he asked her back, he was tense.

    “Saarthal,” she answered, still smiling, “A very sacred place.”

    His eyes narrowed.  “Sacred how?”

    She stopped walking and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Do you know who Ysgramor is?”

    “Of course,” he folded his arms across his chest.   

    “Saarthal is where the war between the Snow Elves and my ancestors began.  It use to be the capital of Skyrim when Ysgramor walked the lands,” she motioned the entirety of the ruin, “This is all that remains to attest that a great massacre took place here, when the Snow Elves invaded.  They spared  _ no one _ , only Ysgramor and his sons survived.”

    “And your ancestors killed the Snow Elves in the end,” he remarked dryly.  

    “Yes,” she nodded, “Ysgramor hunted them down with his Five Hundred Companions when he returned from Atmora.  This all happened long ago, but he avenged Saarthal.”

    He pressed his lips together and motioned for her to continue.  He didn't want to remain here longer than necessary. The feeling of unease did not cease until they were well away from the place, and even then he found himself constantly glancing over his shoulder until it went out of sight.

    The storm hit them there.  And it was sudden. One moment the sky was clear (But darkening, night was coming) and the next snow was falling and visibility was reduced to nil.  The wind had picked up strength and he had to lower his head to shield his face (He'd also raised his forearms). He lost sight of the hunter and realized with the snow falling as heavy as it was, following tracks would be a near impossibility.

     A hand grabbed his arm and dragged him forward and uphill.  He had no idea where they were going and was extremely relieved when she pushed him into a small caved nook.  It provided a small amount of shelter from the storm (they'd be dry), but almost none from the cold/wind.

   She dropped her pack while he slapped the snow off his robes (she'd already cleared herself off).  She pulled out the bed roll and put it against the rocks (as though they’d be sitting instead of sleeping).  

    “We're not going to be able to light a fire in this mess,” she muttered, “Keep the pelt on, we'll sit this one out and rest a bit.” She pulled out more wolf steaks and handed him one.

    He watched as she readied to jump into the sleeping bag fully dressed.  He grabbed her arm to stop her.

   “You're going to get it wet it you do that,” he explained.

   She peered at him, “And we're not going to be sleeping in it.  Winterhold is just around the corner.” That visibly stunned him.  He hadn't realized they were so close (his heart started pounding in his ears).  His amber eyes stared down at her, and his mouth went dry. They would part ways.   _ It was almost time.  _ “We're just goi—”

   He pulled her against him roughly.  She gasped in surprise but it turned into a moan of pleasure as his mouth covered hers and he pushed his tongue past her teeth.  Both of her arms came up and wrapped around his neck and she returned his frenzied kiss. His hands smoothed down her armour until he reached her ass.  She moaned again as he grinded her hips against his own and she could just feel his erection through all the layers they were wearing.

    She tried to pull away from him, but he was relentless.  He walked her back until her back was against the stone (which was two steps in the nook). “Ancano…”

    He groaned against her throat and turned his head to bury his face in her short hair, inhaling her.  He loved her smell. Smoke, fire and snow… some of the most common scents in Skyrim. She'd haunt him… He'd never be able to escape her, no matter where he went.

    “One last time,” he whispered against her hair, “Let me have you one last time.” It had to be enough.  

    “Come now,” she kissed him, reeling him, “Just once?” she licked his lower lip (he whimpered again), “And here I was thinking I needed to hunt Horker for a season, and stick around a bit.”

    That had him pulling back to peer at her, his yellow eyes narrowing suddenly.  He was silent for a long time, staring at her small smile intently, “What are you implying, Nord?”

     She blushed but maintained eye contact. “You don't want me staying?” she arched a dark eyebrow, and then shrugged, and made to step away from him. “In that case…”

    His arms tightened around her. “You will stay in Winterhold, Nord?” he finally asked warily.

    “Since you asked so nicely,” she stood on her tiptoes and rubbed her nose against his chin, “yes, I'll stay in Winterhold, Elf.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  6

     She couldn't tell by his face expression if he was glad or mad (The Thalmor really took haughty to a whole new, unnecessary level), but when he lowered his head and began assaulting her mouth with his own she understood it was a good thing.  She loved kissing him, and was rather glad he wanted to kiss her all the fucking time.

      “I made no such request,” he said at last as he pulled away, and before she could retort, he continued with, “Where will you stay?” His eyes narrowing on her.

     “Right here,” she motioned to the nook, “A stone's throw from Winterhold.”

     He was silent, but his amber eyes were completely focused on her. “Join me at the College instead.” He was working his Speechcraft… big bastard.

     She blinked as he continued to stare at her, unblinking. 

     “I'm no mage,” she eventually scoffed, shaken that she'd almost said yes without thinking (that would be a fucking  _ bad _ idea!).  Everyone would know the first night that they were involved, and she didn't know how she felt about that.  

     “You are a scholar,” he countered, “The potential is there.” 

     “It costs money to join the College,” she shook her head, “I'm a hunter.”

     “Come as my servant then, my follower.”

     “No one would believe that,” she said seriously, “You're a Thalmor.” He arched an eyebrow in her direction. “And I'm a Nord hunter,” she was looking at him like he was daft.  Both white eyebrows were arched now. “I don't want to get you in trouble,” she glared at him. “I'm sure you don't want  _ your _ people to find out about  _ us _ , and they will if  _ I _ stay at that College, in  _ your _ proximity.” He opened his mouth to say something but she hushed him by kissing him. “Come here when you miss me, I won't be far— you’'ll see how close we are when the storm breaks— Sleep beneath the stars with me whenever you want.”

      He groaned.  He'd really been looking forward to a bed… with her in it; but her logic was infallible.  He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her if she was that close (And neither could she it seemed), and she was right.  The Dominion  _ couldn't _ find out about her… He wasn't naive.  She would be another way for them to control him, if they didn't just outright kill her (...).  

    He froze against her and pulled his head back.  His yellow eyes were staring at her with his habitual intensity, she stared back and arched an eyebrow in confusion.  

    “What is it, Ancano?” she asked, her voice low.  He was making her nervous all of the sudden.

     How could he have been so stupid…?  So blind…? He'd forgotten in his euphoria who they really  _ were _ .  This illusion she'd woven (She'd had said a few hours, he'd just run wild with it on his own) around them about just being Ancano and Aya… and he’d believed her.

    They  _ weren't _ .  

     He was a high-ranking Thalmor agent, with a strong magical lineage.  His life wasn't his own, not to give and not to live. He was but a part of a greater whole.  He’d known his whole life was planned, known he'd be marrying stock from another magically powerful family, and breeding even more powerful Altmer mages.

    He'd always been accepting of this.  His duty. 

    Until now.  

    Until a Nord Hunter.

    She was risking her life if she continued to stay with him, and maybe his as well.  He needed to tell her before they continued any further.

     “It is forbidden for Thalmor agents to…” he stopped, took a deep breath and started over, “The Aldmeri Dominion doesn't allow for…” he stopped again and finally pulled away from her completely. 

     “So fucking a Nord is against the rules,” she guessed.  He stared at her, his eyes half-lidded, not amused. 

     “In essence,” he reluctantly agreed,  “You're risking your life.”

     “ _ My _ life?” she peered at him, even more confused (he cast Candlelight as the darkness became almost all encompassing), “Why  _ my _ life?   _ You're _ the one in there.”

     He glared at her and finally took a deep breath. “Because you could  _ potentially _ impact my reasonings and my choices.   _ Potentially _ .”

    She looked unconvinced, “And how would I  _ potentially _ do that?  I'm a hunter with very basic Restoration knowledge.  I don't know the first thing about magic.”

   He growled, “You're going to make me say it, aren't you?”

   “Potentially,” she deadpanned.

   “Because I would rather be with you than an Altmer,” he snapped, obviously irritated.

   “But I'm just a phase,” she spoke calmly, despite the fact that her eyes had suddenly filled with tears (He'd said he wanted  _ her _ over an Altmer...). “It's not like they'd have to wait me out for long!”

   He glared at her, even less amused by these comments. “Your longevity has nothing to do with it.”

   “You're going to be young still when I am old and grey!”

   He grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her close until he touched his hooded head to her forehead. “You think  _ I _ don't know this?” he hissed, his eyes narrowing to mere slits.

    “They really have no reasons to kill me then,” she rubbed her forehead affectionately against his, subconsciously trying to comfort him.  He let her go and pulled away.

   He took a deep breath and his yellow eyes fixated on her as he exhaled heavily. “You’re right,” he finally said, not wanting to argue with her right now.  He wanted to do other things with her instead.

    She smiled at him and grabbed his arm to pull him back to her, “I know I’m right,” she chuckled, wrapping her arms about him, “Now come and keep me warm!”

    He snorted but stepped closer to her anyways.  He wrapped his arms about her smaller form and pressed her against his body.  He cast Candlelight again and grabbed her chin to tilt her head up. His yellow eyes reflected the magical glow.

    “Beneath the stars?” he mused aloud, “In  _ Winterhold _ ?”

    “When it’s not storming,” she amended, her smile wide, “We’ll have to make do with this for now.”

    He didn't say anything.  He just lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, crowding her against the rock wall.  She moaned into his mouth, he pulled away and glanced down at the bedroll, forgotten and crumpled on the floor.

   Aya followed his gaze and grimaced. “It’s going to be cold tonight.”

    “I know,” he agreed and then nuzzled her, “All the more reasons to share.”

    She nodded, and grinned as she pulled his head down. “Of course.”

    He pressed his mouth to hers and drowned himself in her intoxicating scent.  

     “Then this ends our journey, Nord,” he said quietly, pushing his hips into hers (she was still against the wall).

     She gasped, “I still  _ haven't _ ,” that word came out higher pitched due to the fact he’d started nibbling on her ear, “gotten you there yet, Elf.”

    “If we're as close as you say we are,” he nuzzled her ear, “I can make my own way.”

    “So quick to part ways,” she pressed small kisses along his jaw, one of her hands came around to grab his ass and pull him to her.  He grunted. 

    “Afraid you won't be rid of me that easily,” he returned, grabbing at her ass too, “I will be sleeping with you.  Tonight.” And every other night for as long as she remained in Winterhold. He was assigned to the College for the next ten years, he wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

   She chuckled, her smile wide as she pushed herself against him, “I was hoping you would say that.”

    “You knew I was going to say that,” he muttered, peering at her smiling face.  She blushed and hugged him tightly, burying her face against his chest.

    “Maybe,” her voice was muffled.

    “Heh,” was all he said as he released her to arrange the bedroll.  The nook was not very large and if it wasn't for the storm happening right now, wasn't very private either.  On a clear, sunny day, you could probably see the entirety of it from thirty feet away. He didn't like the idea but it would do for now, until he could figure out how to bring her into the College without getting them caught.

    He watched as Aya sat down beside him and removed her boots before sliding into the bedroll.  He liked that she stuffed her gear into the bottom of the sleeping bag, except for the pelt she’d wrapped around her torso (she fixed it to cover their feet). 

    Ancano was quick to follow her (he'd placed his own Thalmor boots beside her fur ones).  Her hands were on him, trying to help him undress, and he had to swallow back a gasp as her cold hands touched his skin.  Her frigid breasts flattened against his chest as he finally shed all his clothes (he also stuffed them at the bottom of the bed, the second pelt added to the first), her nipples felt like pebbles and his mouth watered.  He found himself wanting to taste them, he had a need to know if they tasted as good as they felt.

    Her hands grabbed at the skin of his back, and she raised her right leg to place it over his hip.  He wrapped his arms about her and rolled so that he was on his back and she lay sprawled atop of him.  She squeaked (which made him smile) and he couldn't resist pushing his already hard dick against her lower belly.

    “I've never…” she trailed off blushing suddenly, her tone uncertain and unsure.

    “Oh I know,” he purred, an uncharacteristically savage male pride made itself known briefly as he remembered he was her  _ first _ lover, and that every new thing she was learning, was because of  _ him _ . “I will show you,” he couldn't hide the lust in his voice if he tried.

    He moved slow and deliberate as he ran his hands down her back, pushing her body into his, feeling her bones, her muscles and every other nuance about her that he could. “Bring your other knee here.” He pulled her left knee up so that she now straddled him, the blankets tightened over her back and she made another squeak-like noise as he reached down and spread her ass cheeks.

   “Oooooh…” she drew out the word as she sunk into him.   

   A grunt and a shift of his hips later, his cock was poised at her entrance, just touching her core.  The contact was miniscule at best, but it burned and she grabbed at his shoulders, digging her short nails into his skin.  He raised his head and kissed her forehead (he couldn't reach her lips yet). The action had her raising her head to look at him (which is what he wanted), his eyes lowered to her mouth (almost there…) and he smirked as she blushed. 

 She gasped as his fingers tightened on the globes of her ass and hefted her forward just a smidgen.  Enough that he could kiss her. His tongue lapped against her mouth expertly, and she grabbed his face with both hands as she deepened the kiss.  He groaned against her and arched his hips so that he could rub his cock against her wet nether lips.

    His Candlelight disappeared almost at the exact same time as he penetrated her.  She screamed as the darkness engulfed them, and he moaned as she tightened around him like a vise. 

   “Place your hands beside my head,” he finally said after they remained in the same position without moving for a good minute; she did so.  He moved one hand to her shoulder and pushed against her so that she straightened her arms, her breasts were no longer crushed against him.

   He didn't give her time to say anything as he grabbed one breast and latched onto her nipple with his mouth, his eyes closing.  She gasped and he groaned; her pussy clenched about his dick, his eyes snapped opened as his testicles tightened suddenly (No! Not yet!).

   “Aya!” he released her breasts and grunted, “Stop!  I'm close!” his voice was urgent and she froze, understanding instantly what he meant.

    They were both silent and neither moved while he got his body under control (gods how she drove him mad with want...).  Took him a moment before he raised his head again and buried his face between her breasts. He released her ass completely and was now grabbing her shoulders from the back, his long fingers curling against her collar bone on both sides.  He used his strength and larger size to push her down onto his dick at a torturously slow pace, burying himself to the hilt every time.

   She wasn't even trying to quiet her noises (And he liked to hear them admittedly).  He was sucking on her nipples, alternating between them, twirling his tongue around one and then biting the other.  His name was on her lips, almost with every gasp. He could feel her trying to match his pace. He growled in pleasure when she could no longer support her own weight on her arms and collapsed on him.  His face became wedged between her perfect breasts, almost cutting off his air supply (he’d endure). 

    He could feel her orgasm building up, and just knowing she was close brought him to the edge again almost instantly.  He pulled his head away just enough. 

    “Come with me, Nord!” he ordered, his voice harsh, his hips increasing the pace.

   “Yes!” she screamed, all her muscles locking.  He snarled as he felt her gush against him, her hips shaking almost uncontrollably.  He immediately started pounding against her, frantic and animalistic. When his ejaculation came, barely ten seconds later, he howled against her skin.

   She went boneless on him, her entire body turning to goo (he liked that he was the cause of that too).  He gently rolled to his side so that she slid off him like a lump. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her close to his pounding heart.  

    He didn't need to hear her even breathing to know she was already fast asleep.  Her one hand was gripping his hip bone, the other was on his chest, close to her face.

   As always, sleep evade the Altmer.  He found himself thinking thoughts that were uncharacteristic in nature.  His eyes, though the area was dark, had adjusted to the darkness and he could just make out their boots.  His black leather and gold Thalmor officer boots looking out of place beside her well-worn grey fur and leather ones (an apt analogy to their relationship…).    

   Sleep, when it came, brought with it the Lover's Comfort that the Altmer had just recently discovered, a boon to sleeping with the Hunter in Kynareth’s domain.  He found that he would sleep anywhere Aya wanted, so long as he could join her.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  7

  That had been  _ weeks _ ago, and the days dragged by here infinitely  _ slower _ .  

   Sneaking out of the College had proved _a_ _lot_ more difficult than Ancano had realized, or even imagined (this was _serious_ ).  The place was packed with idiot apprentices that were up at _all_ hours, practicing and experimenting on everything, _all the time_ (for real).  There was no rhyme or reason.  It was a wonder anything got accomplished. 

   That he was a member of the Thalmor, made his every move watched (and not just by the students).  He did not instill trust.

    He'd never minded the exposure before.  In fact he'd always relished in the unease he'd caused (he was intimidating, he knew it and he used it).  He'd always liked the position of power that he'd earned. It had taken centuries for him to achieve this.

    Except—

    Now it was inconvenient.  His mission and his emotions were conflicting on a level they had never crossed before.  He  _ missed _ the Nord… (desperately) not just her body, but her company, her smile… he missed  _ her _ .  Aya.

    Damn.  

    Ancano's mood soured even more as he lay there in his room, staring at the stone ceiling.  Wishing he were  _ anywhere _ but  _ here _ .  The door was closed, locked,  _ and _ runed (a deadly fire spell that would not maim, but kill, he was taking  _ no _ chances, and  _ no _ prisoners).  He’d overheard enough distressing comments that a knife in the dark while he slept wasn’t an impossibility.   

   His head turned and as he stared at the wall, he cast Detect Life (something he’d been doing every night since he’d realized his predicament).  His eyes moved beyond the pink dots around him (the sleeping students) as he followed his magic, barely draining his mana. It was a good thing he was a Master in almost  _ all _ the schools.

    He liked to think that one of those pink dots, far off in the distance, was his Nord (he knew it was probably a horker or spider, but it could be  _ her _ ).  And that even as they were apart he could still be close to her in a manner.  He sighed heavily. When had he turned melancholic?

    There had been a letter waiting for him at the College when he'd first arrived.  Lady Elenwen had not wasted time to establish his presence and his role as the Thalmor advisor to the Arch Mage.  He’d sent a letter to Elenwen via courier immediately informing her of his survival (he made no mention of the Hunter, or the Weynon Stones).  

    The Arch Mage had been cordial and provided him with a  _ room _ .  That there was a bed did not change the fact that he was in a storage room,  _ for straw _ .  He was pretty sure he’d seen chicken feathers and would not have been surprised to find said bird amidst the straw.

   Elenwen's orders had been simple, learn the spells used, record whom knew what, estimate the likelihood that they become an enemy of the Aldmeri Dominion, and eliminate them if they do.  He was to use any means necessary. He could not leave the premises of the College unless summoned, or relieved. He had only one agent assigned with him, Estormo, an excellent mage, also reporting to Elenwen.

   That he wasn’t stationed alone is what made this  _ so _ difficult.  It was ironic that originally, he’d been sent to Winterhold with five other Thalmor agents (the dragon and Stormcloaks had killed the others), and now one was causing an issue.  Which brought him back to the crux of the problem.

   Estormo couldn’t see him leave.

   He could cast Invisibility, but if Estormo was as good as Ancano was, Detect Life would reveal the unseen immediately.  It would be easy to explain why he was invisible considering his mission. But what if Estormo didn’t confront him? 

   The possibility that he would be followed secretly  _ instead _ , to test his loyalty.  Now that was something he knew was very real.  He’d done it himself countless times, had earned praise and prestige within the Thalmor.  

   He was afraid Estormo would follow him.  And see his Nord…

   Afraid Estormo would report them if he saw...

   He was terrified.  

   There were no words to describe what he felt at the idea of his Nord being hunted or killed or kidnapped…he knew what the Dominion was capable of and the idea of his Nord undergoing any of it turned his blood cold.  

    And so Ancano stared at the pink dots until they faded.  He wondered how long his Nord would stay, if she’d given up waiting for him (he was selfish enough to admit he wished she was still in Winterhold).  He wrapped his arms about his body and gritted his teeth. He closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep. There was no Lover’s Comfort for him this night (there hadn’t been since he’d left her in the nook).

    And when his dreams finally came, it was of short dark hair (his fingers clenched to touch it), laughing blue eyes, and that playful smile that always drew his mouth.  He made a quiet noise in his sleep.

    Aya.

***********

   Aya was watching the flames of her fire dance as she ate quietly.  She changed locations a week after Ancano had left. She’d moved closer to the College (she built her lean-to close to the arched entrance and the edge of the cliff).  Despite the proximity, she was actually very well hidden. She’d been able to watch all sorts of people come and go from the College. None of them Ancano. 

    He’d not left the College since he’d entered.  She’d been watching for him, waiting. 

    At first she’d worried that he’d tired of her, but then just as she had been debating leaving, and returning home, her eye had caught Thalmor robes.  Her heart had been pounding and she’d hurled a snowball as his back without hesitation. She was going to tear into his hide for—

   She shrieked, and immediately regretted it as she dived out of the way of a bolt of lightning that was flung her way.  She’d dived into the snow, sputtered as she was blinded briefly and landed on her stomach. She flipped to her back and was about to scream his name but he was already over her, his hands sparking.

   Her voice died in her throat.  It definitely was not Ancano. 

   She felt the blood drain from her face as his piercing eyes (she couldn’t see their colour from within the shadow of the hood) stared down at her as though she were a skeever.  He was tall, as tall as Ancano, with that same wide, slender build. But his face was all wrong… this was  _ not _ Ancano. 

   “I’m sorry!” she threw her arms up to protect her face, really scared now, “I thought you were someone else!” 

   His eyes did not waiver from her as he stared down at her, his hands swirling with balls of lightning. “I missed assuming it was a child,” he sneered, his voice definitely not her lover’s, “It won’t happen again, Nord.” Oh even that sounded  _ wrong _ ...

   Her eyes widened and she nodded quickly. “It won’t happen again!” she repeated, looking somewhere over his right shoulder, not making eye contact.  She scrambled to her feet and bolted like a hare, “I’m sorry!” she’d shouted as she ran out of Winterhold. She went straight to the nook and hid her face in her hands, trying to soothe her frayed nerves.

   Fuck!  Fuck!!!  FUCK!!!!

  She felt her hands shake as she closed her eyes and leaned against the granite.  That had been a terrifying moment in her life that she would have rather not have happened.  It had never occurred to her that there would have been  _ another _ Thalmor at the College.  She’d assumed that Ancano was stationed alone (since all the others had died).  That he wasn’t explained  _ a lot _ .  It explained  _ everything _ honestly.

   She’d rubbed her face with her hands and took a deep breath.  And smiled behind her hands as relief washed over her. There was a reason for him not coming back and now that she knew it, her worry eased and her ire diminished.  

   She’d wait.

  She’d waited a couple hours in the nook until she’d guess the other Thalmor had gone and then she’d sneaked back to her camp.  Where she still sat now, staring at the fire. There had to be a way for her to get inside that didn't involve passing the grim Altmer at the bridge that demanded proof of magic. 

***********

    _She lived_ , and _she was still in Winterhold_.

   He let it sink in that she was still close.  Ancano was standing alone in his room, a small smile on his lips.  She’d thrown a snowball at Estormo thinking it had been him (no one else would dare, so it had to be _her_ ).  According to the other Thalmor it had hit him pretty hard, and he’d assumed children had done it (he’d wanted to scare them, the little heathens).  He had been pretty surprised that it had been a Nord Hunter instead.  She took off running and screaming apologies as she'd done so. 

   Ancano had made no comment except for what was expected (savage Nord was the term she'd used), his heart had been pounding in his ears and his relief had been palpable.  His Nord was obviously upset at him, the snowball meant to get his attention and to advise him at the same time that she was angry.  He would make it up to her when he escaped.    


   He was glad that Estormo had made the assumption.  He could have killed her otherwise…

   He brought a hand up to his pounding heart and made a fist.  

   He had to figure a way out of this hole, he didn't want her to make any more mistakes like she'd had today.            



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!
> 
> The fire she has going is an Upside down fire - produces very little to no smoke, and a lot more heat for the coldest Hold in Skyrim (in my opinion) - I didn't think a Thalmor (with all the trappings of wealth) would know what it was hence the horrible description lol

###  8

   He was doing the rounds of the grounds when Faralda walked by him on the way to her room.  Night had set and she was done playing her role of Gatekeeper, which left the bridge unguarded and open.  His mouth went dry instantly as his body tensed.  _ Now! _

   It was like he lost control of his rational mind.  He was quick to cast Invisibility (he  _ always _ had Detect Life on).  He turned on his heels and walked backwards towards the bridge, keeping his eyes towards the College.  Making sure nothing invisible watched him.

   No one was following, and no one was even outside. 

   He turned and kept one eye on the ground (the walkway was not safe at all) all the while making his way out.  He licked his lips and glanced about once he was in Winterhold. No one out and about. He kept his Invisibility on until he reached the nook where she’d told him she would be all those weeks ago.

   He was mildly irritated that the nook was empty and didn’t look like she was/had been staying there at all.  His eyes narrowed as he stood there, trying to figure out where his Nord would have gone. She’d hurled a snowball at Estormo near the gate which meant she was watching the entrance way.  He cast Invisibility once more and made his way back towards the College. Watching for hidden areas.

   If he didn’t have Detect Life on, he wouldn’t have seen where she had moved her camp.  The only reason he found her was because he was looking for a hidden, glowing pink dot.  He was surprised that she had a fire going (it was weird how she’d built the logs, it looked like a pyramid of sorts).

   She was asleep in her lean-to, rolled in a tight ball in the bed roll they’d shared.  He remained silent as he approached her slowly, his eyes taking their fill of her. He covered her mouth at the same time as he let his Invisibility wear off.  Her eyes snapped open and widened but then they filled with tears as she realized he was there. She scrambled up to throw both arms about his neck. She hugged him hard as he wrapped his own arms about her, closing his eyes as he let her softness encompass him.

   He could feel her heat, her radiating warmth.  There was a reason the Nords were resistant to cold, their blood ran  _ hot _ .  When he’d slept with her, it had been like sleeping wrapped around a furnace, blessedly comfortable in freezing Skyrim.  He couldn’t help himself as he buried his face in her hair. Snow, smoke and fire, all mixed to perfection. He was already hard for her.

   They just held each other, he remained silent as did she, just hugging.  They pulled away and just as he opened his mouth to explain what was going on, her mouth descended on his.  She was swallowing the words as her tongue mingled and danced with his, and then her hands entered his hood and she grabbed his ears (he moaned against her mouth, there was no stopping that).

   “Did you miss me, Elf?” she whispered against his lips, her voice hoarse.

   “Mmmhmm.” He’d nibbled at her lower lip, and that was the best response he’d be giving at the moment.  His mouth returned to hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth. He groaned as her nimble fingers traced the outer edge of both his ears.  Gods, he’d missed her.

   He finally found the fortitude to grab her wrists and pull her off him gently.  It was urgent that he tell her how dangerous the situation had become. Not just for him, but for her as well (especially for her).  He swallowed and rubbed his gloved thumbs along the furred wrists he held.

   “Avoid Estormo,” he was quick to inform her, staring at her, “He will remember you if he sees you again.”

   “I’m not about to forget him either, trust me,” she muttered quietly, shuddering at the memory.  His fingers tightened about her wrists reflexively.

   “He’s going to kill you next time,” Ancano peered at her, his tone grave.

   “Oh I am aware,” she took a deep breath and leaned her head forward so that it was against his shoulder (he was crouching still and she was kneeling now), “He made that clear.”

   Ancano nodded. “I know.”

   “How long are you stationed here?” she raised her head from his shoulder so that she was looking at him in the eyes.

   “Ten years.” She whistled, he remained silent, watching her.

   “I’m going to have to build a house then,” she sighed.  

   He shook his head, “Why would you do that?”

   “Winterhold is the coldest Hold in Skyrim,” she arched an eyebrow at him, “I am not going to be sleeping outside ten years.”

   His body stilled as her words sunk into his mind.  She was going to be staying the entire time he was stationed here (his erection started paining him now).  Suddenly he was glad he’d sent for his things when he’d first arrived and had the gold with him to be able to do this.

   He reached into a pocket in his Thalmor robes and pulled out a small satchel.  He pressed it into her.

   “Come as a student,” he stared at her unblinking, “There’s enough for the tuition there.”

   “And the other Thalmor?  I thought you just said to avoid him?!” she gaped at him, shocked and surprised by what he was doing.

   He rolled his eyes at her and slowly shook his head. “Apprentice robes are hooded,” he deadpanned, and then added almost as an afterthought, “Estormo doesn’t deal with the students.”

   “Oh…” she licked her lips, suddenly nervous as she took note of the purse, “This is a lot of gold, Ancano…”

   “Not nearly as much as you think,” he smiled at her (there was a thousand septims there, enough for the room and board for two years), “I will give you more when the time comes.” Not adding that he actually wanted to take care of her, bring her closer to him.  He could afford to keep her in relative comfort for the rest of her life, being a member of the Thalmor made that easy (not to mention he'd already amassed a great deal of wealth over his long, long life).  


  “Why are you doing this?” she peered at him suspiciously.

   “I assure you for purely selfish reasons,” he said turning to sit on the bedroll beside her.  She arched a disbelieving eyebrow while he rolled his eyes at her, “It’s proven to be quite the hassle sneaking out of there,” he jerked a thumb at the College, “But it’s a huge establishment, plenty of dark corners and unexplored areas, apprentices go missing all the time, sometimes for days,” his tone was conversational, and she burst into ready laughter at what he was implying.  He liked to hear her laugh.  She was so free with it that it was a novelty for him.  


   “You’re terrible,” she grinned, he actually smiled back at her (it felt like it was the first time he’d smiled since he’d arrived).

   “Join me,” he repeated, looking at her steadily.

   “I feel wrong taking your gold…”

   “Don’t,” he returned, “You saved my life, think of it as repayment.” She arched an eyebrow at him as he continued undeterred, “My life is worth more than the mere tuition fees at the College, Nord.  I am, after all, a superiorly bred mer.” She snickered at his words while he grinned at her.

   “All right, Elf,” she took a deep breath, “You’ve convinced me.”

   “You’ll join then?” he peered at her intently.  

   He couldn’t help his smile when she nodded.  He wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her into his side.  She snuggled into him and closed her eyes.

   “Are you sleeping out here with me then, Elf?” 

   He nodded. “Yes, but don't you find this a bit,” he glanced about the area meaningfully, “ _ open _ ?”

   She shrugged. “No one has noticed me here.”

   He looked at her for a moment longer before he slowly got to his feet and left her hiding spot.  She frowned at him when he returned a moment later.

   “Runes,” he explained, sitting beside her on the bed roll.

   Her frown deepened. “Runes?”

   “Magical traps so that no one can sneak up on us,” he detailed.  

   She nodded in understanding, “Aah.”

   He smirked as he hefted her onto his lap. “Shall I give you lessons then?” his voice had turned husky.

    She wiggled until she was facing him, he shook his head and re-arranged her so that she was sitting on him with her back to his front, her legs were spread, her calves on either side of his thighs.   They were both fully dressed, her in her furs and leather and he in his Thalmor robes.

    “Let me show you the wonders of magic,” he purred in her ear, nibbling on the lobe.  She gasped and her breathing turned erratic as he reached around for the ties of her leather pants.

   He was deliberate as he pulled on the drawstring and loosened her trews enough to slip his hand inside.  Her breath caught as his cool leather gloves found her pearl and circled it gently. He nuzzled her cheek so that she would turn her head towards him so he could kiss her.

   He waited until their mouth were connected before he brought forth his lightning magic.  He was barely using it, concentrating on having just his fingers sizzle, sending delicious vibrations against her core.  She mewled and keened against him, her hand reaching for his wrist just sticking out of her pants. Her nails dug in the leather as he circled her clit slowly.

   “Aaaah,” she gasped as he increased his magic just a touch.  She was dancing on his lap, her legs kept trying to close. He knew she was close.

   “That’s it, Nord,” he bit her lobe, and then growled in her ear, ever demanding, “Come for me.”

    She arched off him as he buried his tingling fingers as deep as he comfortably could and rubbed at the nub with his thumb.  His other arm busied itself beneath her armours until he reached her breast. His smile was smug as she squeaked when he rolled her hardened nipple between his fingers.

    She collapsed against him when he finally stopped his magic and pulled his hand from her trousers.  He chuckled and kissed her soft lips as she rested against him, her entire body boneless.

   “How was that?” he asked a smug smile on his mouth, he already knew she liked it.

   “You’ve made some valid points for magic,” her voice was breathless, he chuckled again.

   “Yes, well, it takes a Master to truly demonstrate the validity,” he said, his tone arrogant in an over exaggerated way.  She chuckled and glanced up at him from behind her lashes.

   “I’ve missed you, Ancano,” she murmured gently.  He stiffened, and then forced himself to relax. He’d liked the way she’d said his name just then, she had almost purred it with her Nordic accent.  

   He said nothing as he re-arranged them again, this time inside the bedroll, she snuggled into his chest facing him (asleep within minutes too).  It was too bloody cold to sleep unclothed, and too bloody open to his liking (he’d used three different runes around the campsites, and none of them meant to maim).  

  The raging hard-on he sported made the night an uncomfortable one (top ten in his long, long life), but he didn’t care.  He was happy just holding her right now, he’d  _ missed  _ her terribly.  His heart was still racing in his chest, beating to a rhythm it could only hear in her presence.

   When sleep finally claimed the Altmer, his dreams were void of anything.  The nights he’d suffered insomnia and restlessness a thing of the past. He’d dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep that chased away the stress that had been weighing on his mind.  Lover’s Comfort came as a blessing to the tired mer, and he snuggled the Nord subconsciously in his sleep, bringing himself closer to her.  His body more honest than he ever would be conscious. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!
> 
> Thanks Silvy for proofreading :)

###  9

   It was still dark when Aya opened her eyes to greet the dawn.  She had her back to Ancano, and he was flush against her, his one arm about her waist and the other was beneath her neck and across her front, securing her against his larger frame.  She smiled sleepily and reached back to grab his hip through the robes.

   He arched into her touch (he was sleeping still), pushing his erection against back.  She blinked and then realized that the night before Ancano had given her release but had omitted his own.  She could help with this… in her own amateurish way (she had a good enough memory she figured she could pull it off).  She turned in his arms cautiously as to not wake him. She was at eye level with his chin. In sleep his mouth was lax, barely parted, his breath visible in the cold.  She wanted to kiss him… oh so bad… But she refrained.

    She very gently wiggled in his grip so that her one hand was against his chest and the other at his waist.  She moved again, trying to undo the pertinent fastening of his Thalmor robes with one hand. It didn’t work.  Fuck.

   She frowned and moved her other hand from his chest to assist.  These stupid robes were way more complicated than was fucking necessary in the dark.  She was too focused on what she was doing that she missed the way his lips suddenly lifted briefly.  He was smiling.

    Aya gasped ( _ more like had a fucking heart attack _ !) when the gloved hand at her waist moved to where both her hands were struggling and with a couple subtle movements, he’d undone his robes.  He returned his hand to her waist, and she smirked to herself as a silly thought popped into her head. The Divines had given her a helping hand.

   She blushed suddenly, now that she knew he was awake and aware and  _ waiting _ .  There was an air of expectancy about him that she was quick to pick up on.  He was curious about what she had planned, and she was slowly losing her nerve now.   _ What had she planned _ ?  Oh yeah… Dibella guide her.

    She licked her lips and slid her shaking hand inside his robes (she remembered now,  _ polishing the spear _ ).  She threw stealth out the window as she lifted his underclothes until her palm was against his skin.  He gasped as her cold hand made contact with his toned abdomen and lingered there for a couple moments, just feeling him.  He twitched beneath her fingers.

    And then her digits trailed down his body.  She didn’t have to go far before she found his dick, pushing against his smalls (he arched his hips forward).  Aya stifled a gasp as her hand pressed down on it (it was hot to the touch, even through his clothes). He moaned and shifted, this was the first time she was touching him this intimately.  He made a noise as she palmed him fully, through his clothes, tightening them around his shaft.

   She let him go so that her fingers could pull the fabric aside and slide inside.  They were finally touching skin to skin, he moaned. This part of him was soft, incredibly so, like silk, yet hard as steel (and it burned).  She wrapped her fingers about his shaft, feeling the shape and length of him, tracing the veins delicately. A bead of moisture touched her palm and he moaned again as she made a fist about the wet head of his cock.

   “I’m going to make a mess,” he warned, his voice hitching on his words as she continued to stroke him. 

   “No, you won't,” she breathed.  He frowned as she shifted and then he took a sharp intake of breath as she lowered herself completely in the bed roll, shoving herself in the bottom of it.    


   She turned him on his back and pulled his weeping dick from his robes completely.  He frowned again. What was she—

   His eyes almost bulged out of his head and he just prevented himself from sitting up in the bedroll as he felt her  _ mouth latch onto him _ .   _ What the... _ !?!

   “ _ Aya! _ ” he said her name in a shocked high pitched voice as she sucked on the head of his dick rhythmically ( _ gods _ !!!).  He was fisting the bedroll with both hands.  His cock made a popping sound as she pulled away from him abruptly (he almost whined like a cowed dog).    


   “Did I do that right?” her serious-sounding (and equally nervous) question took him by surprise as she stuck her head out of the bedroll to look at him anxiously.  Her hair was askew and standing on ends. 

   He swallowed before he answered, his voice shaking. “I… w-what w-was that?”

   She looked uncertain and blushed. “A priestess of Dibella told me about this years ago… I was just… you didn’t like it...” she trailed off, her voice lowering, and she was about to come back up his body when he stopped her.

    “No, no, no,” he was quick to say (too quickly), “I’ve never…” he swallowed, and then continued, “t-that isn’t done in the Isles…” 

   “So you liked it then?” the uncertainty was still in her voice.

   He swallowed again and nodded. “Very much so,” he said earnestly, making sure he maintained eye contact with her.

   The smile she gave him was small and hesitant at first, it wasn’t until she ascertained his honesty from his expression that her smile turned brilliant and he felt his heart swell in his chest at the sight (it was almost painful).  He swallowed again as she disappeared beneath the covers. He whimpered pathetically (there was no other way to describe the noise he made) when her mouth returned to envelop his cock. 

   “ _ Gods _ !” he moaned quietly, trying to stay still and failing miserably.  His hands were grabbing at the bedroll beneath them as he fought the urge to grab her head and sink into the depth of her mouth.

   Under different circumstances, Ancano would have been embarrassed at how quickly she enticed his seed from his body.  He wasn’t (he’d never felt anything like this). He was writhing beneath her and when he felt his ejaculation coming he buried his hands in her short dark hair (he couldn’t fight it anymore).

   She made a squeak-like noise as he made an attempt at hilting himself in her throat.  She gagged but instead of pulling away from him, she swallowed.  _ Auriel _ !!

   He moaned (louder this time) as his testicles clenched painfully and his dick pulsed.  She was drinking him ( _ oh gods _ !!) and it felt amazing.  Never in his life, had he  _ ever _ felt like this.  His mind was blown, he had no other way to describe it.  He’d been blown away.

   He wasn’t moving when she tucked him back into his Thalmor robes and climbed back up his body.  She snuggled into his side and grabbed at his robes. He wrapped his arm about her and stared up at the night sky.  There were no stars about, and the moons were hidden from sight.

   “I liked that  _ very _ much,” he reiterated, as he snuggled her.  She blushed and hid her face against his robes.

   “I don’t think I did it right…” she murmured, her voice muffled.

  He chuckled and tightened his arms about her smaller frame. “Did you get the results you wanted?” he drawled.

   “Yes,” her tone was uncertain.

   “Then you did it right,” he assured her, and then yawned.

   “You should probably go soon,” her voice had dropped and she rubbed her face against his chest.

   “We’ll enter together,” he said, there was an edge of authority in his voice.

   “That’s not a very good idea,” she murmured, raising her head to stare at him dubiously.

   There was a long silence before he blew out a breath and sighed heavily. “You’re right,” he muttered, his arms tightening about her.  He was frowning at himself.

   It wasn’t like him to be so irrational.  Nor to make outlandish remarks. He needed to be objective rather than emotional.  They couldn’t enter the College together, how would he explain knowing a Nord hunter?  He’d never mentioned her, not in his reports and not to Estormo.

  It was still dark out, and he couldn’t tell how early or late it was (too clouded).  He grumbled under his breath as he extricated himself from her grasp. She didn’t hold him back, her eyes remained on him as he straightened beside the bed roll.  His amber eyes lingered on her as he fixed his robes.

    “I’ll see you later.”

    She nodded and touched the hem of his Thalmor robes as he left her hiding spot.  He didn’t look back, though he knew she was watching him. He cast Invisibility and nullified all his runes.    


   Long after he’d left, Aya was awake, she’d moved in her bedroll to his spot where she could just feel his lingering warmth.  She was still surprised that he’d given all that gold (excited too, she’d admit). Not in a million years would she have guessed she’d get a opportunity to join the prestigious College of Winterhold.

  Or that a Thalmor would be the one to pay for the tuition.  She frowned at herself as how ludicrous that actually sounded in her head.  No one in their right mind would believe the truth (she was having a hard time believing the truth and she was the one holding the purse of coins).

   Now she just had to tell the Altmer at the bridge that she wanted to study Restoration (she could pull off a simple spell), pay the Arch-Mage her tuition (she guessed this part) and she’d be in.  She closed her eyes and went back to sleep, curled in his spot. There probably was a couple more hours before the sun would rise, she’d get as much sleep as possible and face the morrow with anticipation.    


   Ancano had given her a purpose.  She’d be a student at the College.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

### 10

    The gatekeeper was a bitch about it too.  She’d looked down her nose at Aya when she’d asked for a demonstration of Healing Hands.  It was a good thing Aya had learned that spell a long time ago as a child else this could have been a bit awkward when she went to pay her tuition (visual of being tossed out on her rear because 30 septims short on the second year flashed through her mind briefly). 

     Even after having cast the appropriate spell, the Altmer had looked down her pointy nose at Aya like she was something vile she’d stepped in accidently.  Aya was probably going to regret this later, (she really was eyeing Aya like she was fresh pile of horse manure) but she smirked as she pictured said Altmer stepping in said manure and her reaction to slipping on the muck to land on her angular, dainty ass.  Her smile turned into a burst of giggles before she collapsed into side-bursting guffaws.

     The silence that followed after she got herself under control could be _felt_. (Yep, she was regretting it). “I’m sorry,” she apologized as she blushed brightly, “I just now got a funny image in my mind about a Thalmor slipping on a pile of horse dung and throwing a temper tantrum while sitting in it.”

    The Altmer’s eyes almost popped out of her head before she burst into surprised laughter.  Aya was nodding sympathetically. “See? I knew you’d understand.” Sure she’d lied, but she doubted the gatekeeper would have been kind to her if she’d told her the truth of the matter.    

    “Mind who you say that to,” Faralda shook her head slowly and motioned to the path behind her. “There are Thalmor presents on the grounds, and they lack a sense of humour," Faralda was eyeing her pointedly, "You need to speak with Mirabelle, she’s the one in charge beneath the Arch-Mage.”

    Aya nodded and didn’t say anything else as she swallowed and moved forward.  She found that if she didn’t look down, the fear of falling increased tenfold, and it was a _looooong_ way down.  They really needed to fix the walkway… her thoughts trailed off as she thought of the civil war.  If they were ever invaded she could see an army balking at crossing this death trap. They would be easily picked off (think Telekinesis) crossing one at a time, and with the civil war happening maybe fixing the bridge _could_ wait.

    There was a huge statue of a mage (she was curious as to whom that was) casting some kind of spell (he had his arms extended and his robes looked like they were flying behind him) right in the center of the courtyard.  There was a fountain of magic in front of the mage, the light of which extended high into the sky. She'd never seen anything like it before and it was gorgeous. 

    Aya licked her lips and squared her shoulders.  This was going to be a piece of sweetroll (if she kept repeating that, she'd believe it eventually).  She found her fingers clenching and unclenching at her side nervously. Sweetroll, her ass, this was more like walking blindly into a frost troll lair unarmed.

    "I can do this," she spoke encouragingly to herself and moved past the statue to where the entrance was she figured.  She pushed the double doors opened and came face to face with a short Breton woman.

     They both squeaked in fright and the Breton was clutching her chest like she was having a heart attack. "Fuck, you scared me!" the woman exclaimed regaining her composure.  Her eyes traveled up and down Aya's fur gear critically.

    Aya shifted uncomfortably beneath her direct gaze and cleared her throat. "I was told to seek out Mirabelle."

    "You've found her!" the Breton smiled at her warmly, "What can I help you with?"

     Aya opened her mouth to say something when she caught sight of Ancano coming out of a door.  He froze when he saw her and she blushed guiltily and lost track of what she was about to say.  Mirabelle noticed and glanced behind her to see what had caused her to react so. She glowered angrily when her eyes met that of the Thalmor.

     "Shouldn't you be with the Arch-Mage?" Mirabelle snapped, the irritation in her voice clearly evident.

     His yellow eyes narrowed as he glanced down at the tiny Breton in distaste, but refrained from saying anything for a moment.  “Don’t you have a class to teach?” he countered, his eyes staring at the smaller woman intently. He didn’t spare Aya a second glance and entered another room, turning his back on the two women and vanishing from view.

    When he was out of sight and hearing, Mirabelle snorted. “Don’t let him get to you,” she groused, “We are trying to remain neutral and the Thalmor have sent us an… emissary to facilitate that.” The way she spoke it was very obvious she didn’t believe a word she’d said and Aya's eyes widened at the underlying bitterness she heard in the Breton's voice.  She winced inwardly as the thought of getting caught in Ancano's bed flashed through her mind briefly (that would probably not go over well _at all_ …).  Suddenly joining the College sounded like the worst idea _ever_.  This was going to be a disaster.

     Would they expel her for sleeping with the enemy?  A vision of finding herself physically thrown from the College grounds, her gear strewn about her in the snow haphazardly, popped into her mind and she winced inwardly.  She shouldn't be here...

     Aya kept her mouth shut not wanting to draw attention to the fact that she'd blushed (was still blushing) when she'd seen him or that she'd gawked at him (he looked good in those Thalmor robes in a formal setting).  Instead she’d grabbed the coin purse and handed it to Mirabelle awkwardly. Anything to change the subject off the Thalmor, and Ancano in particular.  

     The Breton blinked in surprise and opened the purse to see what was inside. “Oh!" she sounded surprised and then frowned, "Why are you…" she trailed off as Aya blinked at her.

    "I was told that was the cost of joining the College…" Aya cleared her throat nervously wishing she had gotten more details off Ancano, she was a terrible liar.  She was bumbling like an idiot.

    Mirabelle closed the purse and nodded again, more assured. "Yes, yes," she waved Aya off and pocketed the gold, "I'll make sure the Arch-Mage is made aware.  Now," Mirabelle smiled at her, "follow me and I'll show you to the Apprentice quarters..."

***********

    Ancano had entered the Arcanaeum without paying attention.  He'd wanted to go into the Halls of Elements as Tolfdir was lecturing on the usefulness of Wards but seeing Aya had flustered him a little.  More like a lot. It had taken all his willpower not to smile brilliantly at her in front of Mirabelle. He didn't even want to think about what that Breton shrew would say to Aya if she only knew.  

    He could still hear their muffled voices.  His hands fisted at his sides and he sighed.  He could feel his face heating up as he stood silently against the door, waiting for their voices to completely fade away.  He cracked the door when he figured all was safe and stared at the big double doors leading outside where he knew they had gone and he allowed himself a brief, triumphant smile.  

    Aya was here, at the College, with him, exactly like he had originally wanted.  He found himself relaxing with that knowledge. Ancano would just need to know which room was hers, and what she would be studying, he assumed Restoration.  He wanted to attend her classes and watch her learn, to see if she was as animated in study as she was in life. He was obsessed with her.

    He schooled his features into his normal bored expression and turned on his heels to enter the Halls of Elements.  Now that Aya was here, it was time to get to work. His duties still needed his attention.

************

    That night Aya couldn't sleep.  She'd been so nervous and excited at the same time, all day, that by all rights she should be exhausted, but the idea of Ancano coming for her this night kept her wide awake.  She didn't want to miss him if he came, little did she know he was already asleep in his room.

    She hadn't seen Ancano again after that initial time.  Though she had been disappointed, she hadn't been able to really dwell on it until now.  The Breton had kept her so busy showing her about and introducing her to everyone that Aya had been overwhelmed.  She didn't remember anyone's name except for Colette and only because she was going to be her teacher.

    She sighed and wrapped the warm fur blanket tighter about her body.  She rolled to her other side and forced her eyes closed. She had to get to sleep, she had been told that formal lessons start early, and Aya didn't want to be late on her first day.  She swallowed and peaked at her closed door forlornly once more before resigning herself to the fact he wasn't coming.

    And when she did eventually fall asleep, she dreamt not of Ancano as she had expected, but of a hooded Estormo.  He was chasing her through the woods, and Ancano was dead. She found herself in the midst of a nightmare that had her tossing and turning all night long.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

### 11

    A soft knock at her door had her moaning in protest, "The pelts aren't ready…"

   The door opened and Colette poked her head into her room.  The sight that greeted the instructor did not surprise her. Aya was sprawled haphazardly across the bare bed, pillow and blanket, in a pile, on the ground.  

    "You're late for morning class!" Colette stood at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips.

     Aya jerked awake and sat bolt upright in bed.  Her bloodshot eyes flew open and she peered at the small Breton.  Who was she? She glanced about the unfamiliar room in confusion, still half asleep.  Where was she? What the fuck…?

    "Aya!" Colette snapped her fingers directly in front of Aya's face.  This caused the hunter to jump startled again before she finally recollected herself with a loud yawn.

    She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and focused on Colette properly.  Her eyes widened to the size of gold coins and she gasped, a low breathy sound. "Fuck."

     The Breton smiled faintly at her and nodded sympathetically. "It's okay," she murmured, patting her shoulder comfortingly, "Everyone is late on their first day."

     The Hunter got to her feet and groaned as she stretched and yawned again.  Colette was peering at her furs with an arched eyebrow. "Weren't you provided with Apprentice robes?"  

    Aya nodded and waved a hand towards the trunk at the end of the bed. "I stuffed everything I owned in there…" she trailed off as she began picking up her bedding off the floor and putting it on a neat pile on her bed.

    Colette didn't ask for permission as she opened the chest and grabbed the robes that Aya had tossed on top of her pack.  She held them out towards Aya with an encouraging smile. "When you're dressed, meet me in the Halls of Elements."

    Aya nodded and once the Breton had left her room removed her fur gear, except for her boots.  She dropped everything in the trunk and pulled the Apprentice robes on. They were a bit tight about her forearms but otherwise fit nicely.  She liked the dark colours, they would blend against the stone walls of the College nicely. She blushed and took a deep breath. Now we not the time to be thinking about Ancano… 

    She found Colette sitting on the rim of the stone circle magic fountain in the Halls.  She was alone. "Where's the rest of the class?"

    Colette had stood to her feet and was dusting herself off when she stilled.  She straightened and looked at Aya with a bit of uncertainty. "You are the class."

    Oh.  Aya blinked once, twice, thrice. "Okay then," it was her turn to smile at Colette encouragingly, "I'll be a Master in no time at all then!" She grinned.

    Colette chuckled nervously and nodded. " We'll see, now show me what you know."

    And thus began her new life as an Apprentice of Restoration.  The only one at the College.

***********

    It was a full week after she'd joined the College that she was approached formally by Ancano (he hadn't even been joining her at night).  She was seated in the Arcaneum with Colette, rubbing tired eyes at a paragraph the Breton was pointing at, they'd been at this all night. "Read from here…" Colette was about to flip the page when the Thalmor appeared at their table.  His long shadow falling over them.

     The Breton snapped the book closed abruptly and was looking at Ancano nervously, though she was glaring at him, her posture was defensive.  He was looking down at them, from his towering height (Aya was sitting and the Breton wasn't exactly tall), his intense amber eyes slightly narrowed. "A private word, if I may, with the new student." His voice was devoid of emotion. 

    Aya licked her lips nervously and glanced at Colette, her heart skipped a beat, and not because she was scared (unlike her teacher).  The Breton crossed her arms in front of her, looking every inch like she wanted nothing better than to run. "After class."

    "Very well," he nodded his hooded head and pulled a chair out at their table.  There was a heavy silence that followed as he linked his gloved fingers, and motioned for Colette to resume her lesson.  Aya heard her swallow audibly, her eyes narrowed on the Thalmor staring at them intently.  

    It was impossible to not notice how Colette's hands shook as she re-opened the book she had closed and cleared her throat.  Her finger was shaking as she pointed at the page. "From here," she spoke slowly, and then licked her finger as she flipped a couple pages, "t-to here."

    Aya did everything in her power to avoid looking at Ancano, unfortunately her traitorous eyes were continuously drawn to him.  She felt her face flame as she devoured him visually.  He wasn't eyeing her at all, quite the contrary, his hawk-eyes were completely focused on Collette.  

     "That's all for today," Colette spoke up abruptly, and cleared her throat again, " When you're done with him," she wasn't even looking at the Thalmor, "Please return the books where they belong, and get some rest."

    The Breton didn't wait for Aya to answer and swept out of the room.  Aya watched her leave before turning on her chair to glance back at Ancano.  

    "Don't stare at me like that," he whispered harshly, swallowing, and then he raised his voice, "Please follow me, if you would." He'd stood to his feet and was already walking towards the exit.

    She blinked at his back, turned scarlet and jumped to her feet.  She was staring at the floor, her face beet red, as she followed behind him. She could hear murmurs from other apprentices but couldn't quite hear what they were saying.  They left the Arcaneum in silence.  It took a couple of minutes for him to lead them to his room.

    He held the door open and bowed towards her, inviting her to enter first.  She kept her eyes downcast and gasped in anticipation when he closed the door and locked it (she wouldn't know it, but he'd runed it as well).  Aya turned around, safe in the knowledge they were finally alone and she could look at him. There was no need to hide any more.

     Ancano was leaning against the door, his amber eyes staring at her intently.  She swallowed, and raised a hand to her throat.  He reminded her of a predator about to pounce.

    "I almost took you on the table," he growled, pulling off his studded gloves with his teeth, and tossing them on a bail of hay, "You were eating me with your eyes."

    She blushed as she watched him advance on her deliberately. "I've missed you…" she whispered by way of explanation.  She remained completely still, enrapt by his intense yellow eyes.  

    "It shows…" he trailed off and before she could say anything else he'd pulled her against him roughly.  She squeaked but it was swallowed by his mouth and transformed into a groan of pleasure. His tongue had pushed past her teeth and danced with hers, tangling and twirling.  She felt her toes curl in her fur boots. God's she'd missed him...

    She moaned his name and found herself pushed against a wall, the stone hard against her back.  Their lips were locked together as his hands roamed and lifted her robes to her waist. She groaned when he grabbed one bare leg and lifted it to his hip.  He grinded against her and she found that it wasn't just the granite that was hard, but he was as well.  

    Aya tightened her leg about, pressing him against her core, he had to put a forearm against the wall for leverage.  He grunted and their lips separated. He opened his mouth to say something but she grabbed his face and brought his head down to hers forcefully, there would be plenty of time to talk afterwards.  He groaned and returned her frenzied kiss with fervour.  

     Her hands dropped to the fastenings of his Thalmor robes.  She didn't struggle long before she ripped them open, sending buttons flying across the room.  He groaned again and made to pull away from her when she flipped them on the wall and he found himself against the stone, his hands gripping the wall in surprise.

     He was gasping for air when she ended the kiss and ran her hands across his bare chest (he wasn't wearing his underclothes).  His muscles twitched beneath her fingers and she smiled a wobbly smile. He was staring down at her intently, still hooded despite the fact that he was partially naked now.

    "You can't stare at me like that in public," he said between breaths, actually lecturing her.

    "Shut up, and kiss me, Ancano," she snapped at him, pulling his head down to her by his hood.

     He ravaged her mouth with his, obeying her hurried command.  It was a good thing he'd grabbed a hold of her, his arms wrapping around her body like bands of steel, her knees were on the verge of giving out on her.  She groaned as he pushed her against his lean frame, flattening her breasts against his chest, one of his hands on her shoulder while the other was on her ass.  They stood like that for a moment before he released her long enough to grab the Apprentice robes she was wearing and yanked them off her head.  She gasped in surprise as she stood in nothing but her underwear and fur boots. He grinned down at her wolfishly while she turned a bright red.

    Ancano lowered his head and nuzzled her short, dark hair as she pressed her body against his, burying her head against his chest.  They were touching skin to skin now, and he growled. It had been too long since he'd held her like this.  

     He pushed his back off the wall and bent to pick her up, cradling her in his arms.  She gasped in surprise when he lowered her to his bed, and deposited her carefully amidst the furs.

    "I've waited long enough," he murmured, straightening beside the bed and shedding the rest of his robes completely.

     "Yes!" she agreed, sitting up to remove her fur boots.  She payed no mind to where she tossed them.

     He jumped into bed with her and within seconds she found herself completely naked in his arms.  They were kissing, their tongues imitating what would soon be happening between them.  She wrapped her legs around his waist and he was rubbing his shaft against the wet folds of her pussy.  She whimpered when he reached between them and grabbed his cock in hand.  He was gentle as he pushed inside, his hand coming up to grab one of her breasts.  Her legs tightened around him as he started grinding against her, going as deep as he could. Aya was grabbing at his back with both hands, their teeth were clicking together as she danced beneath him.  She was moaning into his mouth, her pleasure mounting fast.

      The end came quickly, and when he collapsed on her, she was already asleep.  Ancano had smiled faintly and had tightened his arms about his Nord.  He'd rolled over so that she lay on him.  He stared at the ceiling in silence, listening to her even breathing until he too joined her in slumber.  The Lover's Comfort settling over the pair of them like a warm, furry blanket.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

### 12

   Someone was banging on the door.  It was so loud that the pair that had been sleeping soundly, sat up in bed, both startled.  Ancano threw the fur blanket back while she sat up in bed groggily and stretched. He was quick to throw on his Thalmor robes, despite the fact that they hung open (broken buttons).  He marched to the door and was about to yank it open when he paused, remembering exactly where he was, and _who_ was in bed with him.  

     Aya.  

     He glanced back at her and pressed his lips together in a grim line. "Hide!" He hissed urgently.  He'd runed the door last night which meant this was Estormo for the rune would have killed anyone else (or maimed them terribly). 

     Her eyes widened and she jumped out of bed.  She grabbed her robes, and pulled them on in record time.  She even managed to find her boots before she dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.  Satisfied that she was out of sight he pulled the door open.

     Estormo stood on the other side, and to his credit, his eyes remained on his face.  Ancano moved aside and let the other Thalmor enter his room. His facial expression remain devoid of anything as he glanced first at the other Thalmor's back and then down at the floor beneath his bed.  He couldn't see Aya, which meant neither could Estormo.

    "The Dragonborn is in Markarth," Estormo began, "And will be coming this way.  Commander Ondolemar sent me a missive." He pulled out a parchment and handed it to Ancano.

    Ancano nodded and perused the scroll.  The Dominion had been keeping a close watch on the Nordic Dragonborn, the so-called Last Dragonborn.  Ancano had not really expected them to come to the College to be honest. Nords were notorious for their hatred of magic.  A shame really considering the boon that was magic.

    "Very well, we shall be ready for them," Ancano answered, handing the paper back to Estormo.  He was trying to cut this report short without being obvious. "I will report to the Ambassador when they arrive."

    Estormo nodded and then Ancano realized that the other Thalmor wasn't looking at his face but rather at his torso.  He resisted the urge to look down at himself to see what had caught the other Altmer's attention. 

     "Anything else?" Ancano asked.

    "Yes," Estormo continued his report, "There is something beneath Saarthal.  Something powerful. I haven't discovered what yet, but it's only a matter of time."

    Ancano looked pensive for a moment before nodding slowly.  There was a heavy silence before Estormo cleared his throat and looked like he was about to say something else but abruptly changed his mind.  Instead he walked back towards the door and inclined his head.

    "I will report back when I know more," he said as he opened the door, "on a side note… I haven't seen that Hunter again."

     Ancano arched a white eyebrow. "You expected to?"

     Estormo's gaze dropped back to his chest and he shrugged. "No."

      Ancano stared at him in silence for a moment before he dismissed him and closed the door.  He leaned his back against the wood and finally glanced down at himself. He cursed quietly.  There was a bite mark, clearly identifiable by the circular pattern, in his pectoral above his nipple.

    Aya was dragging herself out from under his bed, her eyes were wide and she had a hand on her heart.  He went to her as soon as she was on her feet and hugged her against his chest.

    "You need to leave," he said quietly.  She nodded and hugged him back, her body shaking anxiously. "You'll be fine…" he trailed off, realizing that Estormo might still be outside his room, hidden or invisible.

    "I don't think coming to your room is a good idea," she said cautiously.  He agreed although sleeping next to her in a bed had felt incredible, it was too dangerous.  He cast Detect Life and turned his head towards his door.

    He wasn't surprised.  There was a large pink blurry outline in front of his door. (Fuck…) Estormo knew, and not only did he know, but he knew she was still in his room.  He blew out a breath and pulled away from Aya.

    She swallowed and he saw her face whiten as he pulled the hood from her Apprentice robes over her head. 

    "He's watching," he murmured, lowering his head and nuzzling her.

    "I'm the only Apprentice of Restoration," she pointed out, her voice low, "It won't take him long to figure out who I am!" 

     He clicked his tongue and moved to a chest at the end of the bed she hadn't noticed before.  He pulled out another set of Thalmor robes and laid them out on the bed. She watched in silence as he exchanged one robe for the other and dressed himself, complete with his hood.

     "I'll draw him away," he said, glancing towards his door. "Wait five minutes before leaving."

     She nodded and went to stand against the wall beside the door.  Her heart was pounding in her head like a drum. Ancano straightened and opened the door.  There was no one there, but with Detect Life on, he could see the outline of someone directly in front of him.

    "Saarthal, Estormo," Ancano said, a white eyebrow arched as he fixed his gloves, "You will not find it here."

     The pink outline nodded and moved away.  Ancano's eyes narrowed as he followed after the invisible Thalmor.  

************

    Aya's heart was in her throat.  She heard Ancano's retreating steps and counted to a hundred quietly.  She ducked her head and left his chambers when she hit ninety-eight. She turned left and practically ran to the stairs, her heart skipping a beat.  

    She found herself running down the stairs until she reached the Arcanaeum.  She had no idea if it was day or night but she made for the books (they were still on the table) Colette had told her to read.  Maybe research would still her pulse... and maybe she was a mudcrab's uncle to boot.  

    An attempt was made to read, but she was too restless to sit still.  She muttered to herself and rubbed her eyes hard. She had to focus.  

    Aya took a deep breath and gathered up the heavy tomes.  She'd read them in her room… she was about to leave the Arcanaeum when she was stopped short by a very distinct throat clearing that could be none other than Urag gro-Shub.

    "You had better be putting those away in the wrong section rather than walk out of my library with my books."

    She giggled nervously and turned very slowly towards the Orc standing not ten feet behind her. "As a matter of fact…"

    "Put them back," he cut her off, "And I'll let you read them again."

    She swallowed and returned the heavy books to the shelves, all the while trying to ignore the big Orc standing behind her with his arms folded across his chest.  As she put the last volume away, she turned to give an encouraging smile at Urag before the latter snorted and returned to his desk.

    Aya cursed under her breath and walked out of the Arcanaeum empty-handed.  So that hadn't gone according to plan. She sighed heavily and made for her room (it was still night she noticed).  It wasn't until she was in her chamber that she realized her heart had returned to normal and she was no longer shaken from the close encounter with Estormo.

    And as she sat on her narrow bed, she thought about what Estormo and Ancano had talked about.  Aya wouldn't admit it to Ancano, but hearing the Thalmor discussing Saarthal had bothered her, and they had mentioned the Last Dragonborn.  Considering the last Dragonborn she'd heard about was also the last Septim, that had piqued her interest. She sat down on her bed and frowned.  Aya wished (and not for the first time), that Ancano would just drop everything and leave. 

     She had a terrible feeling about all this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  13

     There was something to be said about living in a small, close-knit community like the College.  News and gossip traveled incredibly fast. Aya had no doubt Estormo would have figured out who she was already if it hadn't been for the warning that had been circulating within the dorms.  She'd avoided him like he had the plague successfully, everytime.

     News claimed that  _ both _ the Altmers (Ancano and Estormo to her) were spying on them all and not together.  To the Apprentices it meant they were searching for something or someone, widening their net.  Aya had agreed completely. Her nerves were already quite frayed.

     It wasn't Ancano doing the searching (and she knew that) but Estormo.  And he was looking for her. Not that he suspected who she was per se, on the contrary, she hadn't made any contact with Ancano since that fateful night.  She knew Estormo was watching Ancano's room. She wasn't taking any chances, not with her life or his.

     Ancano hadn't made any attempts either.  She'd admit it to herself that she was disappointed.  She had assumed he would have known a spell that would have allowed him to come to her undetected.  He would hold her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright. A silly, girlish fantasy if she had ever heard of one.

     She sighed heavily.  He hadn't (but she knew he wouldn't).  She'd barely set eyes on him, and when she had, he hadn't even looked at her.  Rather all his attention had been fixated on her teacher, Colette. The Breton had been a nervous wreck the entire lesson and almost nothing had gotten accomplished.  She'd later told Aya to transcribe the chapters she'd read word for word (and there was  _ a lot _ ).

     She was halfway done the work Colette had assigned (grueling couple days) when Estormo had entered the Arcaneum and had approached their table.  

     Oh no, oh no, oh no….!

     "I will be joining you this session," he'd spoken coolly and then had proceeded to pull a chair out to sit directly in front of Aya.  She'd immediately ducked her head, keeping her eyes downcast.  _ Oh this was not going to be good… _ the hand clutching the quill trembled ever so slightly.  She wasn't surprised. It had been only a matter of time.

     Fuck.  She wasn't wearing the hood.  Fuck! And he was sitting right in front of her!  Double fuck! Visuals of getting her ass electrocuted flashed through her mind quickly before she could suppressed them.  She had to remain inconspicuous. Realistically he couldn't kill her, not in front of all these witnesses. And what would he kill her for?  Throwing a snowball at his head? He didn't know she was sleeping with Ancano, and she had to make sure it remained that way.

      Colette had harrumphed without even glancing at him (which told Aya that Ancano was truly the more intimidating of the two).  She was reading from a large tome, her attention fixated, her lips mouthing the words her fingers were tracing. Aya didn't feel as calm and couldn't concentrate on the words she was trying to write.  She felt the intensity of that hooded stare on the top of her head as though it were a fire spell. Were all Thalmors trained in intense-eye-stare combat? Her lips twitched. Oh no…  _ now was not the time _ !

     She had to stop… There was probably a book written in old Aldmeri  _ somewhere _ that detailed the art of intimidating the enemy with a well-placed eyebrow arch.  She buried her face against her arm that was leaning on the table (She was about to burst into extremely inappropriate laughter…  _ oh gods she had to stop visualising this crap _ ).  She bit her inner lip as the visual of both Ancano and Estormo reading said book and practicing eyebrow arching in a mirror became almost too much to bare.  Her shoulders were starting to tremble.

      Fuck she was going to burst into hysterical giggles any minute now!  With her face still buried against her arm she slowly gained control of her breathing.  Her shoulders stopped shaking, and she raised her head to stare ahead. Forgetting for a moment that  _ ahead _ meant  _ Estormo _ .   _ Oh she fucking deserved to be recognized for this _ … (facepalm).

     Green eyes locked with blue.  She giggled. His narrowed while hers widened.  She slapped a hand over her mouth. Bloody Oblivion.  He recognized her.

     Of course he fucking did.

***********

     He was headed towards the Arcaneum when he saw Estormo coming up the stairs followed by a very pale Aya.  He kept his face expressionless as he approached the other Thalmor. What was Estormo doing with Aya? There was no way he knew who Aya was.  He'd stayed away from her completely.

     Estormo made eye contact with him, and stilled, waiting for Ancano to come to him.  The latter arched a white eyebrow as he glanced at Aya with veiled boredom that bordered on irritation.  He could play this part well.

     "How is your investigation into Saarthal?" Ancano asked, his meaning clear.

     There was a pregnant silence that surrounded them all before Estormo cleared his throat. "It is incomplete."

     "And the Apprentice…?" he asked, his intense yellow eyes boring into the other Thalmor's skull.

     "The Hunter." Was all Estormo said before he withered beneath Ancano's petrifying stare.

     "You may go," Ancano dismissed Aya without even looking at her, "A word, Estormo," he said as he turned and mounted the steps towards his room.  He didn't look back to see if the other Thalmor was following.

    They got to his room in silence.  Ancano pressed his lips together and locked the door behind Estormo.  He kept his face as expressionless as he possibly could as he faced the other Thalmor.

     "Your interest in this Nord hunter isn't going to be a cause for concern, is it Estormo?" he began coolly, arching a white eyebrow.

     Estormo had straightened, his shoulders squaring.  His answer was immediate and succinct. "No, sir."

     Ancano was silent as he focused on his officer.  Estormo maintained eye contact, unblinking, unwavering.  He knew, of course, that there was no personal interest in Aya, but it had alarmed him how quickly she had come under Estormo's scrutiny.  He had to quell this interest he had in Aya somehow.

***********

     Cause for concern indeed!  As if he would taint himself with a Nord.

     Estormo scowled internally, his face betraying nothing.  He remained collected while their eyes remained locked. Ancano's intense yellow stare was returned in silence.   

    There was intrigue afoot.  The high and mighty Ancano, Lady Elewen's faithful servant, was bedding a hunter.  He'd wager his next promotion on it. He was no fool. Thalmor robes are distinct and unmistakable, a Nord does not throw a snowball at a member of the Dominion and expect no retaliation; unless said Thalmor had debased themselves.  She had clearly not expected his retaliation he recalled.

     It was Ancano she had mistaken him for.  The very idea of the giggling Apprentice and his Superior should be laughable.  Ancano was incredibly powerful, any mer worth their salt in the Dominion knew who he was.  His mastery over  _ all _ the schools was legendary, and the envy of any magi.   _ Laugh-a-ble _ .

    Except he wasn't laughing, and he hadn't been  _ that _ surprised to find the Nord hunter.  He'd subconsciously gone looking for her.  Ancano's love bite was not the product of Aldemeri coupling.  Their womenfolk were not animals in bed, biting and scratching their partners like he had been.  No, a savage Nord was more apt to mark her partner.  

     He ground his teeth together hard as Ancano took a deep breath and put his arms behind his back.  

     "Discover what lies beneath Saarthal," he began, his eyes narrowing slightly, "and let me focus on the students.  I was sent here for a reason." He might has well have said that he was a Master while Estormo was not.  

     "Yes, sir." He bowed his head once.  Ancano returned the bow and nodded towards the door.

     "I expect your report in the next couple of days." 

      He was dismissed with a wave, the door clicked and cracked itself open behind him.  Estormo bowed again and backed out of the room. He closed the door once he was out of the room and made his way towards the entrance of the College.

     Ancano wanted a report, he would get one.  Estormo clenched his hands into fists. He would finish his investigation and then he would report to Lady Elenwen his suspicions.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> Comments are love!
> 
> Comments are life!

###  14

      Aya sat on her bed, staring at the chest where all her fur gear was.  She was fiddling with her robes. She was not feeling like going to class today, yet she knew if she ditched, Colette would go looking for her anyways.  She needed to get away from everything and everyone so she could recharge. She was not handling being cooped up very well.    


     Estormo cornering her had shaken her.  He terrified her if she were honest. Those green eyes were just as intense as Ancano's but with deadly intent rather than… she frowned and gave her head a shake.  She took a deep breath and stood to her feet. She would leave for a day or so, that should clear her mind up.    


     She was quick to undress now that she had made up her mind and changed from her Apprentice robes back into her fur gear.  She was just strapping her weapons on when Colette burst into her room uninvited. Her eyes widened and she frowned as she looked at Aya's fur gear with barely veiled disgust.  Aya smiled faintly at her expression.

     "Where are you going?" She asked, her nose wrinkling.

     "I need to clear my mind," Aya said vaguely, "I'm having a hard time concentrating…"

     Colette crossed her arms and nodded slowly as she took a deep breath. "It's this place," she agreed, and then rubbed her hands on her thighs, "how long will you be gone?"

     "Just a couple of days," she answered cautiously, she hadn't expected Colette to give in so easily without a fight.  That had surprised her.

     Colette nodded again and leaned in to give Aya a quick hug. "Be careful out there."

     Aya hugged her back and smiled at her encouragingly. "You realize I was a Hunter before joining the College, right?"

     "What you were before matters for naught now.  You are becoming a mage," Colette smiled at her, like a parent would.  Aya took a deep breath and parted from her teacher.   


      She didn't look back as she left the dorms and made her way across the courtyard.  She cast Shalidor (that was the name of the mage whose statue was depicted in the courtyard) a quick look before she hefted her pack and sauntered towards the big doors at the entrance.

     Her lungs expanded as she breathed in the cold, snowy air.  The stress she'd accumulated since she'd arrived was literally melting off her shoulders and she found herself walking away with a skip to her step.  She had needed this more than she had realized.    


     There was a pang in her chest as she thought of Ancano briefly.  She felt a tiny bit guilty at not telling him what she was planning, but not enough to turn around.  She was only going to be gone a couple of days. They hadn't even crossed paths in the last couple of days.  She doubted her would notice her departure.  


     Sure she understood why.  She even agreed considering it was fucking life threatening (fuck you Estormo).  But she still felt… ignored…?   Neglected?  She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily (selfish).  She frowned darkly at herself and paid attention to the walkway as she crossed it.  Eyes down, mind clear, one wrong step and she would find herself flying like an eagle without the added benefit of lift.    


     Faralda didn't say anything to her as she walked by, she just nodded in greeting and let Aya go without asking any questions.  The Hunter smiled and took another deep breath as she passed the mammoth's skull moving southward. She didn't look back as she walked directly out of Winterhold and into the wilderness that was Skyrim.

    Alone with her thoughts, her feelings and herself.    


************

     "Where's your student?" Ancano asked Colette when he found her alone in the Halls of Elements.  He had been putting off coming to her class until he was sure Estormo was gone back to Saarthal. He'd missed her terribly.  He would have been content just to look at her...  


     "Gone," Colette eyed him nervously.  She had the look a rabbit probably made before the jaws of the wolf snapped closed.

     Ancano was staring at her blankly, not quite understanding what was going on and unable to ask the questions without arousing suspicions.  He had to pretend that he was not interested in Aya's sudden disappearance when he very much was. Why had she left without saying anything to him? Was it because of Estormo?  Where had she gone?

     He kept his face free of expression and arched a white eyebrow at the Restoration Expert who stood before him wringing her hands nervously. She was not about to volunteer more information, at least not to him.

    "Are you going to be following me anyways?" The Breton asked nervously.  

     He straightened and looked down at her. "No." As if he would waste his time with her when Aya wasn't present.  She was not knowledgeable enough for the Dominion to take notice. Her never really paid her any mind despite his front of doing so.  He was always attuned to Aya when he was in her proximity. 

     She nodded quickly and darted around him like a frightened deer before disappearing out of the Halls of Elements.  He was left alone to glare at nothing in particular. He clicked his tongue with annoyance and fixed his gloves. Ancano straightened his shoulders and dusted invisible debris from his robes.  Getting worked up over her departure would get him nowhere. 

     Except there was a niggling of fear at the back of his mind and he swallowed the dry lump that formed in his throat.  Aya had returned to the wild.    


     Estormo was out there.  In the wild.       


***********

     The air was crisp and clear.  She had to admit that being outside, without the four stone walls of the College surrounding her from every side, probably felt like Sovngarde.  The crunching of the snow beneath her feet, the taste of snowberries on her tongue, even the fucking cold wind on her skin felt different.  She was noticing that being indoors too long was a little toxic for her.  


    Aya was making her way towards Saarthal when her gait turned cautious.  Heading her way, a tall Nord was approaching (he was not as tall as Ancano but definitely a good five inches taller than her).  He wore a beaten iron banded armor with an iron helm, the horns turned menacingly downward. His jaw was squared and cleft, she could just see tendrils of pale brown hair at his nape.  A banded shield was strapped to his back, a steel sword at his hip. He was muscular, his arms quite literally bulged at his side. There was something about him that drew the eye, but not in a good way.

     She found herself slowing more as he got closer.  His ice cold blue eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, his mouth remained a thin grim line.  His steps, she noticed, turned deliberate as he passed her, the snow barely crunching beneath his heavy boots.  Aya frowned and stopped walking completely.

    There was no fighting the urge to turn around and watch the big Nord walk aw… she froze and her eyes widened uncontrollably.  Her heart lurched fretfully in her chest and she resisted the urge to grab her throat. He had stopped as well and had silently turned around to look at her, the blue eyes intent and calculating.  The silence between them stretched and she suddenly found herself sympathizing with Colette. She understood now how the Breton felt when Ancano watched her intently. Exactly how she felt now beneath the Nord's scrutiny.  

      Fuck why was he so unnerving?    


      "I'm looking for the College of Winterhold," his voice was not as deep as she had expected, but it was clear with just a hint of a Nordic accent.  Though despite the politeness, the cold from his pale eyes did not abate, "I keep getting lost out here. Care to show me the way?" 

      "S-sure," she cleared her throat awkwardly, "It's not far at all," she stressed, grinning at him.  She was hiding her discomfort behind a friendly smile. 

      "Good." He tossed something at her and winked (a coin purse?), "I'm afraid my business is urgent." He remained where he was while she backtracked towards him. He kept getting bigger the closer she got.  His eyes remained fixed on her face.  


      "Follow me," she mumbled.  She swallowed and a sense of unease traveled down her spine. She didn't understand why, and then it was like a giant clubbed her in the face with a mammoth femur.

     Estormo's words about the Dragonborn coming to the College popped into her mind as she led the big Nord back in the direction she had come from.  Her body broke out in goosebumps and she felt like someone had just walked over her grave.  Ancano had to know he was here.

    That had to be him.  The man following behind her silently as though he weren't wearing a full suit of heavy armour.

    The Last Dragonborn.


End file.
